Side Effects
by AxJfan
Summary: Over all the questions that Yusei had left them, all the hope gone to waste, all the bonds that lay severed on the battle-torn ground around them, still he remained, a haunt in their minds, making them wonder: Were they insane? Hope precedes death. AxY
1. Prologue: To Dream of Him

**A prologue most mystical where little is said and all is revealed...**

**Disclaimer: I don't own 5ds.**

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**Prologue: **

**To dream of him**

**Crow POV**

I dreamed about him again.

It began as many of my dreams did, on the sparkling coast near Pearson's grave. The moist wind played softly with my hair, whispering through the bouquet lying serenely against the stone. As was usual, nothing else moved around me: my eyes never strayed from the blurred name of my departed friend, my normally twitching hands were still, and everyone else in the world had vanished for this moment of peace.

But I was far from calm, I was confused.

I hadn't spent my nights here since my duel with Bolger, when I had uncovered the truth about Pearson's death. The sense of closure from that battle had cured me of the poisonous guilt that drew me here like the moth to a flame. Then why was I here again?

For a moment I thought of Yusei, and wondered if my pain was anything like the agony he had silently suffered for seventeen years. I wondered if he visited his parents in his sleep; if he saw the explosion that had ended their lives. But he had been healed as well, hadn't he? As a matter of fact, I still believed he made it a point to soothe me because I had done the same for him.

What had he said?

_Don't hold onto that guilt. If you think you are doing what is right, follow that path._

His words were fainter somehow, as if damaged by time like that faded photograph of Yusei's parents I'd found in Rudger's mansion.

I frowned, the first voluntary movement that had ever taken place by this seaside. There was something about that picture... something about Yusei...

As if that tiny action had flipped a dangerous switch within me, soon all my muscles were moving, contracting, stretching, as I bent over the grave and cleared of the straying petals from the bouquet. The quiet world chocked in silence.

The uncovered name stared back at me with its bold simplicity while I gasped, slack jawed, unable to process what I was taking in. I had to be seeing things, that was the only option. It had to be just another figment of my imagination in my completely screwed up dream world. There was no way this... because if it were true...

_How could I have let this happen?_

I jerked away and ran towards the flat-lined sea, desperate for a cold jerk to awake myself from this horrible nightmare. But I knew no matter how hard I pumped my legs, no matter now quickly I gulped in moist air, no matter how desperately I tried to escape from the haunting truth; relief would never come.

No matter how deceptive this place was with its whispering wind and glittering sunlight, it would never bring me peace.

I knew what it was that carried me here when sleep came to call in the starless nights. I knew why that name stared up at me from the cold rock. I knew why I would never reach the cold ocean waters that would bring me relief.

It was because he had died like Pearson: suddenly, young, and without any proper explanation.

And for the life of me, I couldn't figure out why he wanted it that way.

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**Ruca POV**

I saw them again tonight.

The water had been unnaturally still, even for the Spirit World. I remember that the grass was damp with morning dew and the crisp breeze of the ocean not even two feet from my bare toes. I remember staring out into the great blue mirror without blinking, hoping for reassurance in such a lonely place. I remember watching the sun break across its surface, casting reflected light into the soft sky.

And I will never forget what followed.

She came first, appearing with the sun in slow winding steps. Whispers on water, the blue surface below her cracked like a shattering mirror with every step she took, distorting her reflection beyond repair. Her short hair floated freely around her in the caress of the morning wind, framing her heart shaped faced like a beautiful painting. Where she had been red before, there was simply white.

With the rustling of wings, he came next, shadowing her movements with soft footfalls. Yet where hers fractured the glass, his healed. He had eyes only for her, and followed without a sign of complaint. Where he stood there was no reflection beneath him, only dark waters.

She looked back, smiled, and offered her hand to close the space between them. He took hers by the wrist, and took the lead, carrying her towards the blinding horizon.

_"Don't leave!"_

Before I knew it I was running, sprinting across the ocean surf, screaming out their names with all the power my weak lungs could manage. My cries must have reached their ears, for they turned to watch me approach, something stricken across their lovely faces.

My chest burned, and I wished that my brother was here to egg me on, to give me the strength to reach them. Feet pounding against the freezing glass below me, I could feel it splintering against my bare flesh, stabbing me without hesitation. Sharp pinpricks of blood strained a crimson trail behind me before falling like stars into the stirring ocean waves.

But I didn't care—couldn't care!

They were shaking their heads now, urging me back without speaking a word, desperation in their actions and bright eyes. But I couldn't stop, not with them so close, so pretty, so white! Not when I could see them again, touch them again, hold them again!

It was not to be.

Something was shifting in the ocean currents as I drew closer to them. Waves began to crash around me, surf clouded my eyes with stinging salt whenever I blinked. The solid ground at my feet began to wither, the surface tension becoming iffy at best as they shook their heads and began screaming out to me, words lost in a typhoon of howling gales.

But I couldn't turn back, I had to reach them, I had to save them!

"Go back!" The wind carried their words to me, but I couldn't listen. Didn't they see it was too late for that now?

_I_ didn't see how literal that really was.

My foot felt the jaws of thin ice shatter as it fell through, sawing jagged lines up my leg. Before I could breathe, before I could scream, the cold sting of open water swallowed me whole. The ocean had me tight in its grasp, sucking me into its depths, back to that place where it was so hard to breathe, pounding me with waves and unpredictable currents, spinning me like a hopeless top in all directions...

Though my vision grew darker and colder, my eyes did not stray from the surface where they walked so effortlessly on water, where the sun shined warm on their hair, where they pounded on the barrier they could not cross and tried to reach me, where they shook their heads in hard warning...

Where the black waves and silver wind carried their words to me:

_Hope precedes death, Ruca. _

I woke up in a cold sweat.

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**Jack POV**

Jack Atlas does not get nightmares.

No, I may have unpleasant dreams from time to time, but there is nothing my subconscious can conjure up to frighten me. It was childish to be afraid of the dark, and Kings had no business cowering at figments of their own imagination. It did not matter if blue eyes followed my every move at the night, if the wind whispered strange things through the window when I woke in the early morning.

And there was no need to close that gateway to the outside world because:

I. Was. Not. Scared.

I had no business believing in ghosts, those were fairy tales made to frighten the lesser minded. I would not sit quietly at the table in the morning, pale faced, because he leaned in and murmured things that made my mark bristle under the covers.

Someone had to be strong in this damned garage.

Someone had to pull the others together and repair the missing gap. Bruno sure as hell couldn't. Crow was too busy listening to the wind.

But I was not busy fussing over the unknown. It didn't matter to a King; the only important things were protecting my kingdom and ruling sensibly. So I'll let the others wake with screams in the morning and stay up till dawn the following night; what they believe is their own business.

But I don't believe, I know. That's what separates the weak from the strong, that's what makes Crow a close friend instead of my sole rival. He's stuck with his head in the clouds, distracted by fairy tales like a child, while I'm staring down the barrel of the gun our friend left behind for us.

Oh, yes, the King must always know what challenge to face, what goal to reach for, and when to back down.

I had thought he knew it too.

The echo of my fist striking the wall was deafening.

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**Hmm... **

**~AxJfan**


	2. The Final Beginning

**Trying something different here... this first chapter will be INCREDIBLY confusing, so no worries if you don't understand. All will be revealed sooner or later.**

**;)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own 5ds or The Mortal Instruments.**

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**Chapter One**

**The Final Beginning**

**Third Person POV**

"Yusei, you do not look well," Mikage murmured from the steel chair across from him. "You have dark bruises under your eyes and your skin is paling."

Even without a vow of estranged silence, he would not have commented on that particular observation. Agony did not bother him if it did not touch those around him that he cared about, and it could not find them if they did not know its true extent.

"And judging on what Aki is like... and all the blood you've both lost... should I be...?"

"Should I be concerned?" he asked, watching the small droplets paint his arm red with detached interest. The other studied the twin puncture wounds with mild curiosity as well, licking the sticky residue left on his lips and cringing in disgust.

"Ugh, Yusei blood," he commented, settling for smearing the substance on the offered towel. As soon as his mouth made contact with the cloth, he recoiled as a man would to a rattling cobra, spitting out his own warning hiss. "This is your tools rag isn't it?!"

Blue eyes studied the towel distantly, "It may be."

The pause where their cold eyes made contact shattered with the restrained laughter quivering off the victim's lips. Pulling his hood up higher out of habit, he laid a comfortable hand on the other's good shoulder and grinned, his incisors gleaming in the weak moonlight. "You know, you're funny in your own way. Really dry humor."

The teen called Yusei raised his eyebrows in response and returned to examining his wound and his tattered clothes. Knowing a lost cause when he saw one, he sighed and eyed the other boy warily. "Jack and Crow will wonder what happened to the cloak."

"Well," he smiled, pulling his friend forward in long loping strides, sweeping down the streets as if he already owned them, "we can just tell them we ran into some trouble from Team Magician while scouting. Not a big deal."

The other smiled thinly, a rare sight on nights such as these. "And when they spot my new mark Kiryu?"

Shaking his silver head like a great lion's mane, the older teen smirked with ease, "Yusei, don't worry about it. Soon we'll have dominated all of Satellite, and then we won't have to hide anymore! We'll shape this into a place where we can all live without being oppressed by..."

He trailed off, gesturing mildly into the night as if the answer lied within the stars. The wounded boy frowned, but did not comment, keeping his opinions to himself, as was common. But the other would not keep the silence; he was much too eager and assured to leave an unfinished sentence hanging between them.

"Come on Yusei, stop worrying already! Look at the map"—he withdrew the tattered and slightly out-of-date paper from a pocket deep within his brown—"and how soon it will all be black! We'll have stopped all these Duel Gangs and beaten those demons back home with their tails between their legs! Think about it! We won't even have to keep lying to Jack and Crow anymore, not that they don't suspect already..."

"They do not suspect the truth," Yusei finally replied, pushing the map away from his nose.

Kiryu frowned, put out by the somber person before him. Usually seeing their conquered areas—their achievements as nakama as he called it—cast his mood high into the heavens where it soared freely for hours on end. And he knew his best friend felt guilty about the secrets—about the midnight meetings with each other, about the scars that now littered both of their bodies... but this behavior was strange, even for him. "Yusei, what's up with you tonight? This is our dream! A Satellite free from danger! The two of us finally out in the light to—!"

"I don't want that Kiryu."

A beat. Then, spluttering like a man suddenly cornered by a glittering vampiress, the addressed seized his ally's shoulders and whirled him around so they could gaze into each others' eyes. "What do you mean? You out of all of us want Satellite to be safe the most!"

Wise and weathered, the azure eyes of his silent friend dredged up the answer from the pit of his blinding soul, preferring as always, to leave some things left unsaid.

"Oh," Kiryu realized, releasing his hostage and stepping back, masking his face in unintentional shadows. "Oh."

Yusei watched him for a few moments more before turning his head away, gazing up at the thick ozone that constantly hovered above their dangerous home.

"Living with guilt is not something that is new to me," he eventually whispered, hands curved into tight fists at his sides. "And I welcome more if it means that I can protect the bonds with my nakama."

"Yusei... you..."

"Kiryu, please," he continued softly, daring a powerful glance into the gray areas between them, "you are my leader, my friend, and my brother. You are the one who is closest to me out of them all... even Jack and Crow, my wonderful friends whom I grew up with... I do not wish for..." Trailing more than just dark blue shadows, he cupped a steady hand over the open wound and breathed in thick silence.

"Yusei, you know that there's no satisfaction in a situation like this," Kiryu frowned, reaching out to cover that hand with his own in a common sign of affection. Their fingers brushed, but tonight Yusei was startled by the frigid contact he had become accustomed to. The other saw it and withdrew; an injury of his own flashing across his eyes. "I understand you. They would want to understand too."

"I know," he agreed quietly, brushing flaking blood off his tan skin as if dismissing the problem. "But I do not want them to."

"Don't want them to what?"

He looked up without seeing, pulling a name from the voice torn somewhere between a growl and a plea. His wrists jostled against the cuffs binding him and he frowned, having temporarily forgotten how cold metal could be. Yet somehow, the quiet was all the icier.

And Ushio never did like his silence, even when they had first met as opponents on the dueling track. He was quick to break it with a half quivering order, "Don't give me that look! That's the first thing you've said since we brought you here fifty minutes ago!"

Fifty minutes? Distant images of Mikage's purple hair and hazel eyes locking his hands down skated before him. He searched for her subtly and found her in the corner of the room, some blurred white rectangle in her arms. She scratched something softly into it, as Ushio continued to throw pointless questions around.

Fifty minutes. Then there was only another ten left of this silent torment.

Vapidly, he folded his fingers together into an awkward prayer before him, staring down the ghastly color of his skin as if he could scare it away. He could not think about the cause of it if he were to maintain his silent contract, for those thoughts would take him into a dangerous white room where her heart was struggling to strike.

He closed his eyes and deepened his breaths, keeping them calm and even. If even one emotion was allowed to cross his face, they would all burst free from the earth he had so eagerly buried them under. For the fact remained that he had failed her, he had failed himself, and the very world...

And although that failure stung in the places that he was not yet numb, the gasp of betrayal would never leave his lips. He would not speak. He would not condemn his nakama. He would not give over the world in which he did not want to belong. His dying breath would be to protect those living in it, and those who foolishly loved him for who they wished he was...

Silence had always been his single greatest defense. Now it would be his last.

"...And if you don't start explaining yourself they'll be forced to find you guilty!" Ushio continued, slamming his hands on the gray table between them to attract his attention. "They have evidence against you Yusei! The witnesses, Aki's condition, what happened last night, the result of the blood work... do you know what will happen if that comes back positive? Do you understand what'll happen to all of your friends and contacts?!"

"What happens?"

Kiryu just about leapt out of his skin at the sound of his comrade's voice. The thin near dawn light splayed across his shallowly bruised face, casting his high cheekbones into sharp relief against the brown wall in front of him. Dust stormed upwards as he spun around and clutched at his chest, cursing, "Damn it Yusei! How long where you standing there?"

The affronted teen simply nested beside his friend in response, reaching around him to cup the cheek of the woman his comrade held so fiercely by the shoulders. The approaching morning whistled its arrival with the beginning of police sirens and coated his brown boots in a thick layer of slimy dew. But he barely noticed his surroundings; his attention was pointed at the fallen figure before them. As if deaf to the previous inquiry, he turned his sharp gaze to his new partner and repeated his question.

"To what?" the other replied, irritation evident in his panting breaths. Yusei paused in thought once more, eyes trailing up to the heavy shadows concealing them from the approaching warning of the sun.

Apparently satisfied with the view, he continued, "To both of you," and tapped the woman's cheek with his middle finger absently, forcing some life into her lax face. Her eyes snapped open and she snarled, baring her teeth almost absently in his direction.

"Vile creatures! Who gives you the right to this?!" she spat, voice blocked by the thick liquid beating in her throat. Kiryu simply grinned as some form of reply and licked his sticky lips in afterthought.

"Kiryu, what has she done?" he asked with a frown, wiping off a grimy fingerprint just below the woman's exposed clavicle. She snapped at him this time with a shrill curse and then began drunkenly ranting about her overindulgence in Bloody Maries.

"You did more than that old lady," the silver haired teen reminded her with an almost cruel smirk, followed by an empathetic wince of his gentler companion. But he understood, so his silence continued.

"If it is so illegal to play with my food, why are you monsters still beside me?!"

"We do not play," Kiryu corrected, taking a step back as the first strip of sunlight cut a fine line between the three of them. "We're here to liberate the Satellite from the likes of you. We're here to make this place safe, to mold it into a better city. Right Yusei?"

But the other, once again, had nothing to say in response other than to stare at the 'old lady' twitching angrily before them.

"And I suppose some higher power gave you that mission, huh?" she snapped, lashing her long legs out in a futile to split her bindings. Kiryu shook his head in amusement, leaning down even further to whisper, "Give it a rest, old lady. My friend here made these, and let me tell you, he makes things to last. Too bad you're not a duelist; you could have battled your way to freedom."

"You expect me to believe that?" she snarled, pulling back her lips in disgust. Her dark brown eyes fell on the quiet teen and glared at his technical gaze. "Get a picture, it'll last longer."

He blinked, surprised by the old phrase. It made sense according to Kiryu's assumption about her age, but he found difficult to believe when her shape, although curvy in the height of womanhood, did not agree with the soft young face glaring up at him.

The patch of sunlight grew rapidly between them, opening the street like a raging flash flood, spurring the response he had waited on. "Well my friend," his partner chuckled almost absently, finally answering the previous question, "just give her a few more minutes and you'll see for yourself."

A desperate look was thrown at the pair and she felt the urge to shout, "But you'll burn as well!"

Yusei considered for a moment and then slunk back against the far wall of the ally, keeping a wary eye on the mouth thirty feet away from them. "Kiryu, if someone sees us here when it happens..."

"Don't worry about it Yusei, it'll be just like the first time," then, almost as if quoting something, he continued, "Besides, the police are rarely interested unless you can produce a—"

"—body," Ushio finished, the rustling of paper dragging him back into the four-walled blue room. His blank stare must have been incredibly uncomfortable for his older friend, for he had risen from his seat and was pacing back and forth just out of his line of sight, mumbling about things while Mikage scratched them down in her notebook.

Unable to focus on thoughts or details for very long, he allowed himself to speak softly and intentionally for the first time since his capture. "I know that they are still waiting outside."

The security officers snapped into surprised attention, staring at him uncomfortably, as if really, truly trying to see him for the first time. His blue irises stared back boldly, unafraid of anything that they might imagine there. The partners would not find it, no one could find it. He had buried it the moment his first mark had burned more intensely than hatred.

"They are growing restless being forced to watch through that window," he continued blatantly. "Jack and Crow are thinking of about twenty ways to break in and talk to me again. Ruca is going to send in her duel spirits soon. I advise that you go to them, for I cannot anymore."

It was too much to hope for that Ushio would simply do as he wished and console his friends for the double set of loss they were about to endure. No, as usual, the officer marched straight over to him and put their faces close enough together to be uncomfortable, practically spitting, "What are you saying Yusei? You had the chance to talk to them yourself when we first dragged you in here!"

"No, Ushio," he whispered calmly, starring clearly into the gray eyes that were soon to fade, "I did not."

"What are you talking about?! They were right there in front of you! You could have said anything—"

"—to her, but you just had to keep quiet about it, didn't you?" Crow chuckled, elbowing Jack in the ribs as his kids whirled around the garage in obnoxious laughter. Carley, supporting a young girl on her shoulders, careened out the open door, making happy plane noises. Rua snickered in the corner with his sister, not helping the situation in the least.

The self-proclaimed King, after all, did not take kindly to being taunted.

"Why you little—! The King does not need to say anything at all! It should be obvious and natural, not one of your little bird-brained schemes!"

"Well a bird brain is better than no brain!"

The predictable tussle erupted between the two fiery men, much to the exasperation of Yusei and the apprehension of Bruno. As he handed a screwdriver to his kindred spirit, the dark haired amnesia case wondered, "Shouldn't we separate them before they hurt each other?"

But his close friend simply gave one of his tiny smiles and replied, "They will not truly harm one another," before returning to the work on their prototype D-Wheel engine. Although he knew Yusei's words were always correct, he could not help but flinch a bit when what looked like a telephone was hurtled into Crow's mass of orange hair.

"If you say so," the super mechanic muttered, bending over to help and praying silently that they would stop quarrelling soon. The gloved hands of his partner caught his thin wrists as they reached for an inner part, and he was confronted with Yusei's startlingly observant eyes.

"Does it truly bother you that they fight so much Bruno?"

The other paused uncertainly and then nodded, intelligent enough to see that it was useless to lie. "Why doesn't it worry you?"

The teen gave another meek half-grin and released his captive in favor of working on the D-Wheel. Bruno sighed inwardly, knowing by now that Yusei did not always answer questions posed to him with words. For all the science and logic stored in that clever brain, he was certain that the cobalt eyed duelist had more hope and belief than anyone else in the world. Maybe that was what drew him towards him, his bright light in a dim world.

"They left once," Yusei answered suddenly, eyes not straying from his diligent work. Bruno started at the unexpected sound and gaped at the young man beside him. The three boys rarely ever spoke of what had happened between them—too may unpleasant memories from what he understood. "And yet here we are."

"Yusei..." he trailed off, amazed by the enigma poised tranquilly as he spoke of dangerous times.

"But if it bothers you still... Jack! Crow!" The two whipped around in hot debate, fingers that had been in the other's face aimed now at Yusei's clean brow. "Crow—Jack does not have to say anything about what he feels to Carley—"

"She is my very close friend!" the King flared immediately in response, hands already inching towards his duel disk, ready to declare a short war with a quick result.

"And Jack, this should not matter. Kiryu remembered his fight with me, and Carley will eventually recall hers with you. Nothing needs to be said."

While his tall blonde friend took in that last bit of information, the girl in question stuck her head back into the garage, being consciously careful to mind the giggling girl on her shoulders.

"Nothing needs to be said about what?" she wondered. "Zora told me to tell you guys to keep it down, especially Crow."

"Gaah!" the accused shouted. He slumped onto the couch in defeat and muttered, "I thought she was finally warming up to me after I dueled against her son!"

The reporter grinned impishly at her new friends before plowing on, "Did I hear you say Kiryu remembered what happened Yusei? That's strange; all I've got is meeting with Misty afterwards on the rooftop... I'm not sure I want to remember the rest!"

The King's finger fell with his jaw, comical surprise mixed with dampened anger. Then finally, he spluttered, "How is it that you seem to know everything Yusei?!"

"I pay..."

"...ing attention? Yusei, are you with me?"

Irritated now, he sent a half hearted glare at the woman who insisted on shaking him out of the only link left to his friends he had left. Mikage shot it right back, but stopped just as abruptly, sitting down with an exhausted sigh. Her shy figure swam murkily in the brown waters of his vision, and he sensed the slight trembling in his numb legs begin to spread.

Not much longer than. Aki would not have to suffer—

He killed the thought before it could finish itself, pretending that Ushio did not catch the flicker of bright sorrow in his eyes. "Yusei... please... Aki is dying. You were obviously with her when it happened... we might be able to save her if you just cooperate with us. I don't understand why you hold your tongue when the life of one of your friends is on the line..."

The ocean surf was bitter against his skin as he broke the surface tension, fighting with all his strength against the powerful currents working around him. Waves crashed over his head, sending him under and shooting him up with harsh consistent malice and he wished, for the first time in a very long time, that Jack would drop the scheme he had been devising for months and leap in after them.

But he knew Jack would not change his mind, his friend had a one track mind set towards only one thing. Power. But didn't he understand? This was the path Kiryu had taken, the path that led to isolation, to poverty, to hell... Didn't he see that risking the life of one human would gain him nothing? Hadn't he listened when they—

"Yusei, talk to me."

The white sheets rustled as he turned to face the tall figure at his door, but that was the only sound he made. Rain drummed persistently at the window, splashing high shadows across the room and its occupants, who bathed in the darkness stoically.

"You knew Kiryu died the moment it happened, didn't you?" Jack pressed, voice already hollering at the figure lying prone on the bed, cursing the blank eyes that stared at him too calmly to be healthy.

Still, there was no response. He knew that his silence would set off Jack, it had multiple times during their life together; whether it was growing up as kids or hanging around their home as Team Satisfaction. It did not matter though, he could see in the stiffness of Jack's shoulders that the would-be King had come here to pick a fight, and if that was what his friend wanted, that's what he'd give him.

"Damn it Yusei!" Jack cursed right on target as he crossed the threshold of the sixteen year olds' room in two great steps. Before either could blink, each of his long hands had a fistful of black cotton. "Don't just sit there and stare at me! When a King asks a question, you must answer!"

The only response was the sky's many tears colliding with the roof above their heads. With a frustrated roar, Jack's grip was rebounded, letting his fallen comrade collide heavily with the walls around them. The resounding crash of bone against wood echoed around the large mansion, and a woman floors below them cried out in alarm.

Still, nothing was shared between them other than haggard puffs of stale air.

"Coward!" Jack called finally, reaching into the shadows to drag his newest enemy into proper view. Later, they both knew he would regret the move, but they also knew that he would not control his impulses enough to prevent them both pain.

"When things go wrong all you ever do is hide! You surround yourself in this quiet! You are not a man! I don't know how it is that I've ever seen you as anything more than pathetic! You trick yourself into thinking that you don't care and you just detach!"

He was lifted and released once more, this time earning Yusei a dark purple reminder across his ribcage. The air escaped his sealed lips without the whisper of a word.

"Everyone sees you as the hope of satellite, but I know differently! I see the truth! You are the cancer of this place—the one who is to blame for all the pain and suffering that exists!"

Something changed in the rhythmic pattern between them, a slight hitch of his souring breath. Then with another crash, he was pinned to the wall by his shirt collar and forced to stare into livid purple eyes.

"It was your father that created our destruction, and you as his son, you are the vessel from which that legacy continues! You just destroy lives like Kiryu's you don't have the power to save any—!"

Something broke.

Yusei's silence drove itself into the side of Jack's face, cutting the words away with split lips. Red shock pounded the flood of words out of his gaping mouth and into his startled hands as he stared up at Yusei's raised fist and murderous eyes. For a moment he felt a sick pride rush between his ears—he had made Yusei _feel_ something, _show_ something—but it vanished under the dark clouds raging behind the blue eyed boy.

The loudest silence either had ever heard rained between them in gasps of pain, shaking bodies, and dagger like eyes. They had both felt the chill of the other's glares before, this was not the first or last fight that would break out between them. But up to this point neither had instigated it for the simple pleasure of _wounding_ the other so badly that they would just cause themselves more pain. Neither had seen the other so raw and terrifying before.

No one had ever seen Yusei's eyes like this.

For the first time in his life, Jack Atlas was at a loss for what to say. It was his turn to gape at an enraged, wounded, and shattering friend with no idea what to say, how to answer his agony other than just to allow him to vent it. But Yusei would not release it, he could see that this was festering and rotting his friend from within, eating his already tormented soul alive.

For a moment he felt a flicker of fear.

He wiped it away with the blood from his face at the sound of approaching footsteps on the staircase, Yusei's name on their lips.

"You can't bury us Jack," he spat, thickly oblivious to the cries for him. "You came to me for a clean break; you came to make me hate you. I cannot do that for you. That is how a coward deals with his pain. You are the one who is going to run away with his tail between his legs. Leaving this place is impossible; it follows you wherever you go. No matter how high you climb for your _glory_, you will not break past the smog overhead. Like this, you will never be King."

"Why you—!" With that he was back on his feet, holding Yusei in a choke hold once more, trying to strangle an answer out of those hellish icy eyes. And the other fought back in a way that he never had before, and both were terrified by their own behavior, but could not force themselves to put an end to it past the red fog that blinded their minds...

"Yusei! Jack! What are you doing?! Stop this!"

Martha's terrified voice released the vice of Yusei's grip and stimulated a full retreat. Everyone could hear the echo of the forcibly opened doors of his heart snap shut. But Jack would not have it; the abrupt change in behavior fueled his sense of justification and his strength. One last blow was thrown, and Yusei did nothing to stop it from colliding with his temple, knocking him back into the bed with yet another explosion of agony.

Children were screaming now, they could hear it beyond the rain and their breaths and the echoing death of a friendship between them. The smaller teen did not rise where he had fallen, and the look of pain did not leave his face. Jack's ugly pride roared like a victorious lion in his chest, and he stormed out, shoving past his foster mother, doctor, and the children holding each other in silent horror, casting one last insult between them, "You are not the person I thought you were."

"... After all..." Ushio finished, twirling his index fingers together reluctantly. "Maybe you truly are the monster they are accusing you of being."

That drew out a single, sharp laugh from his throat that echoed pointlessly around the high roofed room. "You know nothing of monsters Ushio."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Faces flashed within those dark eyes, a boy with the cross burned into his chest, slit pupils glittering dangerously in the night, solid green eyes winking at him between trees, razor claws cutting into his flesh, pointed fangs driven back by the midday sun, formless shapes lunging at the edge of his vision...

"Yusei! You will answer when I'm talking to you!"

A silent challenge was written clearly across his young face. Kiryu stood across from him, drenched in sweat and something else, panting laboriously in the summer heat. The baked dust of the street kicked up with each aggressive step he took, bringing him closer and closer to the rock before him.

"I refuse to hurt you Kiryu," he stated, tensing into a position that would allow him to evade the oncoming assault. The other roared in evident frustration, tearing at his long silver hair gleaming in the high sunlight.

"We only have a few hours before Jack and Crow return from scouting! Listen to me!"

"No. This is where I draw the—"

"...line, Yusei," she growled, teeth shining ominously in the clouded moonlight. Her long claws clicked against the tiled floor, circling him and the friend he held firmly to his chest. Their eyes traced each other's every twitch, preparing for a fight neither could possibly win. "They are strictly forbidden from entering our home. Whatever friendship is between us will not stop me from tearing that creature you are protecting apart."

"I don't want to hurt you," he replied, throwing the ragged body over his shoulder as he rose to his feet, "but I will if it means protecting my friend."

The girl blanched dryly against the tiles, "Tying yourself to a demon like him?! Your foolish heart will be your end!"

"Better an end by my heart than by my enemy's hand."

"By aligning yourself to him, you have made many."

She launched herself at him.

"Don't touch him, you'll only make it worse! I'll take him to Martha's..."

A shadow against the wall.

_Can you hear me Yusei?_

Someone stirred before him, but the name eluded him.

"Who did this?"

He did not know anymore, there were so many faces.

_Yusei?_

Yusei? Who was that? His name sounded foreign and unfamiliar in these dark waters.

"Was it Him?"

Yes, it was always Him, all of it was because of Him, he had failed _everyone_ because of Him, she was _dying_ because of Him...

_Hey—are you...?_

Someone waved a big hand in front of his face, and the dam burst, sweeping him away in the crimson tide.

The rake of steel against nails rang through the cathedral like early church bells, the glow of his knife vanished deep within the scaly hide of—black blood flowed across the ally, mixing with gold—it dripped down the open wound of—his arms swung from his—blind spot and collided with the ground, tumbling, turning—something lodged itself in his abdomen, blotting out the pain crawling up his arms and legs and mind as his mark pulsed angry red in—the small room where Kiryu had died to rise again as a Dark Signer...

"You were injured protecting one of mine? Why would you...?" confused Spanish eyes gazed down at him from above, his teeth clenched tightly. A small golden cross dangled above his nose from the thin chain around his observer's heavily scarred neck. "What—?"

"... were you thinking?!" he shouted, although there was no anger, there never was, "You know that those guys..."

"... hate each other," the men whispered as he gazed at the other cloaked figure on the dueling field. "The Black Rose Witch and the Shadowhunter, that guy will be the one to stop..."

"... the blood!" she snapped at him, binding his arm with a strip from her dress, "Why are you always so careless with your own..."

"... life Yusei?!" he nearly yelled, real fear in his voice, "You could have..."

"... died! I died because of...!"

"... you! You are the cancer of..."

"... the Satellite will be their target with all its despair..."

"... attracts them like moths to light..."

_Hey, hey? Come on Yusei, look at me!_

"... doesn't hurt me because of the sacrifice..."

"... she made to save you will be in vain if you don't..."

"... drink from this cup to be reborn into glory! Glory in my..."

_Why's he breathing like that Ushio?! I thought you said he wasn't hurt!_

"... world left if I give into you! I'll destroy..."

"... myself!"

_He wasn't when we searched him! Yusei, Yusei! Can you hear me?! Yusei?!_

Someone was shaking him again, shuffling his fading thoughts into dangerous territory. Thousands of eyes stared at him from above, blurring together in shades of blue, green, brown, and red, glaring at him with shared disdain and curiosity, wondering if they should raise a hand in help or to end it all right then and there...

They blinked at him, called his name, waited for him to rise to his feet and stumble away so they would not have to make the choice themselves, waited and watched with cooled hatred in their inhuman eyes.

_Yusei?! Ushio—a doctor! I can't feel his heart...!_

An explosion louder than time rocked his body and tore him from his bindings, sending him tumbling to the floor. Somewhere else in the room, Mikage screamed and Ushio shouted for help, back up, anything. He felt the vibrations of powerful footsteps shake the metal ground below him and wondered dimly what was going on. His friends were hollering now too, and he knew he needed to take action.

But his body was so slow... lost in his foggy mind...

He rolled over with a hissed grunt, to see dark Spanish eyes wondering, "Will you be the next meal Signer?" Forced himself to his knees, heard the familiar call of a long dead voice, "Is that all you got Yusei? Come on! Those guys aren't going to beat themselves!" looked upwards, saw solid evergreen eyes blinking at him and light shawls falling off smooth skinned shoulders, "Why, what do we have here? A death in the forest?"

_Yusei! Don't you dare touch him you bastards!_

He stood, hunched over the lacerations and dead weight on his back and heard the howling of wolves as they circled him, eyes glittering in the dead devil's hour, straightened his head and felt the concussions of air as Jack's fist whipped him to the ground, "Kiryu hasn't died! You have!" and gasped as he stared into the starless sky above him and saw the cracked mask of the girl he had just damned himself to rescue, thanked heaven for her silence, rolled to his knees as her scream reached him, her shadow fell over his face, her blood splattered against his cheek, "I will not let Yusei die!"

_Yusei!_

There was one last glow of red light, and then his vision dyed black. His head hit the ground, and finally, there was silence.

* * *

**... confused yet?**

**Please give me some feedback for this chapter, but keep in mind it was suppossed to be confusing. I need to know if I pulled this off or if I overdid it a bit...**

**Thanks for reading,**

**AxJfan**


	3. Trees in a Forest: Part 1

**Here it is, chapter 2! I already have the _other eleven _pages of the next chapter up in Word, so I will update the next chapter some time next week.**

_Believe in Nexus, dear readers, for they will be your salvation... or your doom._

**Disclaimer: I don't own 5ds or the series this is crossed over with.**

**General Warnings:**

**THIS STORY DOES NOT CONTAIN:**

**1) Any OCs, that's right, none.**

**2) M-rated romance, but the rating may change due to violence**

**3) A Timeline easy to follow**

**THIS STORY DOES CONTAIN:**

**1) Violence**

**2) Mild Romance**

**3) Tragedy**

**4) Evil**

**5) Cross-over Characters**

**

* * *

**************

Chapter Two:

**Trees in a Forest**

**Part 1**

**POV Unknown**

**Location Unknown**

I exist beyond the edge of infinity—for even eternity must come to an end.

"That may be, but even that point must come to an end, for death is infinite."

So is it your infinity or my death that will end first?

"You will find that out through the suffering of those you love."

I will protect them.

"That is a battle you can no longer win."

I died for them, that love is limitless.

"Love? Someone like you cannot possibly understand such a suicidal emotion."

It would seem I understood that perfectly.

_A laugh,_ "You see only one side, and I will make you see the other."

Hate and Love may coexist, but they are not the same, much as your notion of infinity and death.

"We will see if you say the same things tomorrow."

Another infinite notion it would seem.

_Anger,_ "Your tongue will loosen by then, for with each passing moon, another will join you."

You underestimate the power of our bonds.

"Answer me this then, if you are so confident about your bonds in motion: If by turning the Yusei Mechanism counterclockwise, the entire reactor of Momentum can wipe out a great city, what will happen if the part is destroyed altogether?"

_Silence._

"Sin and sacrifice do not mix. I will show you what happens to your precious bonds when you destroy them. I will show you the side effects of every lie you have fed them."

"I will destroy them all."

* * *

**Third Person POV**

**Security Center Conference Room**

The face of the devil stared down at her from the electronic clock on the wall, flashing the same yellow digits over and over again, caught in the vicious stream of malfunctions that had swept up the entire city.

3:00am, 3:00am, 3:00am...

She mumbled incoherently under that glow, fiddling with the electronics in her hands that, without Momentum, were utterly useless. With a sigh that was too tired to be exasperated, she noted the clock for the fifth time and shook her head, marveling at the irony.

It had been the devil's hour for the last thirty minutes (well, as far as she could guess anyway, time was never her thing, just ask her boss).

So, it had been early mid-night-morning ever since those people blew open the side of the Security Center Main Building, stole the accused murderer, and threw him over the back of his own D-Wheel before hightailing it out of the interrogation room like a bat outta Hell.

Distractedly, she wondered if she could use that comparison without it coming back to bite her, like things tended to do in her chosen career. Her boss would certainly appreciate the symbolism with the Devil's Hour, but would not agree on any of her standpoints. For example, Fudo Yusei was framed and then kidnapped, and Izayoi Aki was NOT a victim of his "treacherous deeds" (as reported by a certain nasty blonde rival of hers).

But of course, Carley had no way of knowing the most important things that had happened during this endless hour of evil, for the phones were out while the Momentum Reactor was being repaired, and her friends were far into the night, hunting down a tree in the forest for all it was worth.

She had no way of knowing that it had been 3:00am since Izayoi Aki uttered her last words, nor did she know how much those would haunt her later. And perhaps it was better for now, because this way, she still had hope.

And she knew very well the power of that.

"Death and calamity," she muttered to herself, fiddling with her glasses now, wishing she had her pad of paper with her, "a reporter's best friends."

According to Angela, her boss, and the hundreds of other reporters pounding on Security's doors, screeching questions about her belated friend, of course.

"Betrayal, affairs with Senator's daughters, kidnapping, murder—this was the story of the year Carley! The lucky reporter to get their hands on this article would have their lives set! They could literally sit back and write nothing, yet it wouldn't matter because they wrote _the_ story," she continued, attempting the loud voice of her boss with mild success. "Those guys only talk to you anyways—this is my... your chance at fame! Get this story and this company will be made!"

_This_ story.

_Her_ story.

And she didn't want it.

Turning her head to the window, she sighed again, spotting the angry glow of white in the distance, signaling the return of Jack Atlas, the man she not-so-secretly loved.

"Jack... please tell me you've brought him back..."

Because if he brought Yusei back, Yusei could tell them what was going on, Yusei could prove himself innocent, Yusei could direct them to the kidnappers, Yusei could lead them to victory in the WRGP, Yusei could shine light on this darkness, heck, Yusei could probably even repair the Momentum Generator in a blink of the eye _while_ saving Aki's life!

Of course, she conveniently forgot that Yusei could have done all of these things before, yet had chosen to remain completely and utterly silent.

But the lack of a third D-Wheel told her the truth. "Jack..." she murmured, already knowing the horrible tizzy he would be in over this. Yusei was closest to him, of course, and to be unable to rescue him from... from some woman that Bruno seemed to know...

"Oh boy..." she whispered, melancholy with the dark room and dead night. "Why is it always that my friends are always the victims? First Jack's runaway Ghost tearing up the highway and attempting to kill him, Aki's been attacked by something, and now Yusei's the victim of some kind of set-up and kidnapping...? How do these things even happen? I thought this new city was supposed to be a great place with less crime!"

_Well, ok, the crime _is_ less, but it seems like the people behind it are all the trickier. _

"And it's looking like they knew about the Signers, like Sherry said tonight," she continued, too deep in her own thoughts to shut her mouth. "And now with Aki nearly dead and Yusei missing... Well, I guess that's up to me to find out."

With those hopeful words echoing around the large room, she stood and walked to the doorway, opening it and peeking out into the hallway. The others were lined up outside: Bruno, Rua, and Ruca. Without the D-Wheelers, the group seemed shattered and broken, emotionally unstable without those strong masks amidst them.

"Ready to start?" Bruno asked, voice trembling with fear and a dimming sense of hope. He must have counted the headlights too. She nodded and gestured them all in, noting how the twins did not even attempt to smile. They all had then.

Leaving the door open for the two missing D-Wheelers, she approached the large conference table once more and resumed her seat next to the head, knowing that chair would automatically be Jack's. There was a moment of awkward silence as they glanced at each other, completely unsure of where or how to start.

Surprisingly, Bruno was the first to speak, strangely eager, "We should try and figure out why someone would target Yusei and Aki first, and how they set Yusei up for this murder."

Ruca's gentle voice added another polite suggestion, "Or maybe we should talk about that woman that you know Bruno, the one who took him."

"No way! We've got to talk about all this Psychic Duelist business! Or this whole 'Shadowhunter' thing!" Rua interrupted, and though he was as loud as always, there was no glint of mischief in his eyes tonight.

"What are you talking about Rua?" his twin mumbled with a sigh, sensing a tall tale.

Carley's head rose at the list of potential leads, and she went for the one she knew the least about, "Shadowhunter? Psychic Duelists? What are you talking about?"

"Uhh," Rua admitted with a light blush across his young cheeks, "I don't actually know anything like that; I was just hoping one of us did. I mean, there's gotta be a reason they think Yusei's a psychic when we all know he's not, right?" He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, accepting the annoyed look his sister sent his way.

"Rua, were you eavesdropping again? I thought you learned your lesson with Bommer's D-Wheel," she chided, but the glimmer in her eyes dimmed the effect. His blush deepened, but not enough to discourage his speech.

"Let's just say I accidently put my ear against the door when they just happened to be talking about it," he offered with a tiny shrug, spurring a wave of Carley's hands.

"Sure, we'll go with that, but what did you hear? Are you sure they weren't talking about Aki?" the rising reporter drilled, reaching for the pad of paper that was still at home, under her couch. With a half-pronounced curse (she was very aware of the fact that there were two impressionable young children in the room) she smacked her hands back to the table and blew a strand of hair from her face, praying for the power to return.

"Ah, Carley right?" Bruno asked, prompting a quick nod and quizzical glance. "There's probably some paper and pens in the filing cabinets in the corner. I'm sure Officers Ushio and Mikage won't mind."

Her mouth fell open for a moment, causing Bruno to wonder if he had somehow insulted her intelligence, but then a sheepish frown splashed across her soft face and she sprang up (knocking the chair to the floor in the process, but who cares?) and retrieved said objects without a fuss. "Perfect!" she exclaimed before sitting back down, testing the pen experimentally before returning her gaze to Rua. "Thanks Bruno."

He blushed, "Don't worry about it."

She waved a hand at him and nudged the child across from her with her foot, a sign to continue. He jumped and then bantered on, caught off guard, "I followed Kazuma, Ushio, and Mikage while Jack, and Crow went out to catch up with that lady and hid around the corner until they went into the room. They were quiet for a while then Kazuma asked Mikage about Yusei, wondering how Jack could be with a murderer."

"Yusei's not a murderer!" Ruca denied immediately. Rua waved his hands about defensively, as if saying 'I know, I know! That's just what they said!' before barreling on.

"Mikage was offended a bit, but basically told Kazuma that Yusei's really awesome," he amended, eager to display his hero in a positive light once again. "But then she said that... well she saw Yusei do it with her own eyes. She was thinking it was another Ghost, but when they caught him he was bleeding... and robots can't bleed right?"

Bruno made a strange noise at that and muttered, "Well, it's like Sherry said, our enemies have incredibly advanced technology."

He paused in consideration, giving Carley apt time to scratch down her troubled notes. For a few moments the only sounds in the room were that of a squeaky pen, which stopped abruptly with her train of thought, "Wait, Mikage saw it happen? It wasn't just some, 'they came around the corner and Yusei was leaning over a dead body' deal?"

"That's what I think happened," Rua added, but shrugged. "But I don't know. They were pretty confused about the whole body thing."

"Confused?" Carley repeated. "How so? A body's a body, right?"

Once again, the smaller boy shrugged. "I don't know a lot about this kind of stuff... but they kept trying to figure out where the body was."—he looked up, and they saw something truly frightened in his eyes—"They should know where it is right? I mean, if there wasn't even a body... Yusei can't be guilty!"

The two near adults in the room swapped glances, the fact that this wasn't a great subject to discuss with kids smacking them in the faces. A glance told Carley that Bruno couldn't console them in any way, so she made an attempt at speaking delicately, "Look, we have to remember that this is Yusei we're talking about. I may not know him as well as you guys, but I know for a fact that there's no way Yusei could even _think_ about killing somebody. I believe that he's innocent, one hundred percent, and if they can't find the body, chances are nobody's dead in the first place!"

Relief danced across their faces like firelight, and a small smile sparked on the youngest boy's face. He glanced around and opened his mouth to continue, but was cut off by a sudden exclamation from his sister.

"Rua! Wait!" she shouted, grabbing at her arm with a small wince. He cocked his head to the side and allowed a worried expression to smother the flames, reaching for the Birthmark that connected her to the Crimson Dragon and its other four warriors.

"What's going on?" Carley wondered, waiting for the mark to shine crimson like Jack's did on occasion. She shook her head, and they could all tell that the news would be bad.

"They found Yusei and that woman..." she began, focusing on the feelings being shared through that mark, "...but something's wrong... Jack's really angry and Crow's upset..."—she glanced up, eyes glazed, towards the doorway as if expecting them—"They're coming up the stairs."

"Really? But why did we have to—?"

"No! That psychopathic woman drove off the side of the bridge! No! They did not drown—watch the damn clip from your damned Security Cameras when the damned power comes back!"

Well, that answered Rua's question effectively.

"Jack," it was Mikage and Ushio both, trying to calm down the powerful presence of the once King. They had as much success with him as they had with Yusei, and it was evident that fact hurt them from their constantly wavering voices. "Jack! Calm down!"

"Crow," Ushio veered, closer to the door now. Carley stood and stuck her head out, closely followed by the rest of her little hazmat group. The orange-haired duelist had paused at the window, looking distinctly... distraught. His fists shook with his head, and when the Security Officer touched his shoulder, he reacted in such a way that proved it, demanding, "Let me go!"

A stricken expression flashed across both Crow and Ushio's face for entirely different reasons, and the younger duelist backtracked with a wave of his hand and a tortured smile, "You're going to have to watch from the cameras you put on our D-Wheels, you won't believe us otherwise."

His eyes strayed to their group and he touched his mark, a sign subtle enough for them to pick up on while the officers were left in the dark.

"But we need to hear it from you two, our main witnesses for this, as well," Mikage explained, clutching the camcorder to her chest as if it were the most valuable gift in the universe. Jack scoffed and marched down the hall, locking eyes with Carley swiftly and briefly before shouting, "Watch the damn tapes and we'll talk!"

He swung into the room with far more force than necessary, bursting through their group, and it was then that they noticed he was soaking wet.

"Eh! Jack!" Rua complained, but said nothing when the duelist gave him a sharp look. Crow followed shortly after, and although it was less obvious than it had been with the King, it was easy to see that he was wet too. In unpracticed unison, the non-Signers swung their gazes to the large windows that lined the conference room, expecting rain.

Only the black night greeted them, not a star about to shed light, only the full moon. Pretending not to notice more symbolism opportunities (Yusei was NOT gone, that was impossible), Carley ushered all of her interviewees inside, sparing the officers an apologetic look. Dumbfounded or exasperated (Crow and Jack tended to have both effects on people) they looked down at the old camera and shared a suffering shrug before trekking inside of this small room ,waiting for the power to return to view this strange evidence that the two duelists had captured.

The door slammed shut behind her; Carley resumed her post at the table, looking at the male Signers expectantly. "Spill."

Jack did so eagerly, rounding on Bruno, the unfortunate target of his aggression, "That damned woman you two know drove off the side of the bridge!" His palms bit deep into the metal table, producing a bang that echoed in synch with the blinking clock around the dark room.

3:00am, 3:00am, 3:00am...

"Sherry...?" Bruno asked. "But while she may not be afraid of death, she wouldn't willingly seek it!"

"Jack, shut up!" Crow snapped unexpectedly, throwing his own punch at the table before them. The lower thud reverberated up their arms, canceling out the jarring noise from Jack's. All joking humor had evaporated from the normally light duelist's mouth, creating a sobering effect on "The King" where it would have set him off on another day. "That's not what happened and you know it!"

The rebuked shot him an icy glare but said nothing, giving Carley leeway to insert a hesitant, "What did happen then?"

Crow closed his eyes and looked away, rubbing his forehead markers to ease the pain of what he was about to say.

"Ghost."

"Ghost?" Carley repeated, though it was no more than a whisper on her lips. The phantom of Jack flashed across the demonic light on her glasses, smirking cruelly at the lives he had destroyed. A moment of silence was shared between them, the pause where Yusei's gaze would have grown too intense to hold, and then a giddy sort of relief flared in the younger ones.

"Ghost! Then he is the one responsible for framing Yusei!" Rua exclaimed with more than hope, firmly set on that belief. Ushio made a scoffing sound with the stale air he puffed from him lips, drawing attention effectively for Mikage to disagree.

"That's... I'm afraid that can't be true. That Yusei we saw murder Kazumi's partner was the same man that we saw defeating Goodwin to save our world." She was quiet for a moment and then confessed, "I don't understand it."

Without the thoughtful expression of Yusei's face, the quiet was a formidable enemy among them, eager to break apart the bonds that held them together. For a moment, the phrase "turning the machine counter-clockwise" entered the young reporter's head in a deep masculine voice, but she shrugged it off, blaming the chill of tonight and nerves.

"Yusei wouldn't kill anyone!" several of them disagreed at the same time Carley suggested, "Why don't we start from the beginning?"

They all looked at her, confused, and she grinned, gaining some life at the thoughts cascading in her jumbled head. "If we all pull our stories together, without interruption"—she shot Jack a meaningful look that only she and Yusei could risk—"then we can find some parallels and ideas to fix this mess and prove Yusei innocent."

"What do you not understand about 'we saw him do it'?" Ushio muttered, but by the low volume it was obvious he had hope for this strategy as well. After all, everyone in this room knew how incredibly complicated things could become when they revolved around Yusei.

Ignoring him, Carley leaned closer to the woman she had been neck and neck in over Jack a handful of hours ago, repeating the message she had for the others, "Spill."

* * *

**Flashback Sequence**

**Mikage and Ushio**

**Third Person POV**

Lithe as a pack of ravenous lions, their roars colored blue and red against the echoing streets. Feet pounding against the concrete jungle, they chased down their agile prey with all the power they could muster. And he, like a graceful gazelle leaping bounds across golden fields, danced around their crude attacks and waited for his own opportunity to slip away into the open night air.

Worn boots gliding across the shingles, he allowed himself to be herded down the long streets, the thrill of the chase mingling with his quiet desire to escape back to those he loved. But tonight his chasers were different; they had finally evolved from their crude cat-and-mouse games to a more elite struggle. And this was why he must let them come: if they were improving, then he must as well.

Or at least, that was how it used to be. Now it was different, now he stumbled with every step he took, now his right leg burned with poisonous pain every time it touched the roofs below him. Now they drew closer than they ever had before; now he could see the faces of those who dedicated their lives to detain him.

"You can't run away this time!" that ever so familiar voice boomed, flushed with a small taste of victory. From the passenger's seat of his partner's security car he cocked his gun out the window and aimed at the darting figure, waiting to breach civilian ground before firing. The escapee glanced back, taking him in with the frown he was well known for back home, in the waking world.

Staying silent was his only option, his ultimate protection.

But Ushio would not have it, "What's a matter? Have you finally run out of witty little comments?!" The scar on his left cheek wrinkled pleasantly in obvious, gleaming delight. At the time, the poor man honestly thought that by catching him he would be doing his city a good deed, he would be keeping the streets safe, and at the same time, he would be impressing his pretty female partner in the driver's seat.

He would learn the truth soon enough. But his remark served as a well needed reminder to the other's hazy mind. Cockiness was supposed to be his cover, and now that his allies were so close, he could not let them see his true soul. "What's so illegal about taking a stroll through the city Ushio?"

"A stroll, eh?" the officer remarked, lowering the gun when he saw it was useless, "What kind of a stroll lasts three hours and involves Security capturing you?"

The other forced a smirk, a familiar expression on the faked face, "A long one, I would assume."

Ushio growled and replied, "There's that lip. But you're too cocky! There's no way you can escape this time!"

He rolled his eyes like a disobedient teenager, which was somehow picked up from the men and woman racing below him. "If memory serves, that's what you've been saying for three years. And yet"—he spread his arms wide in mocking wonder—"here we are."

Mikage punched it in response, and the car lurched forward a few more precious feet, revealing the city's edge into wilderness—the cliffs into the desert, his obvious destination. Knowing already that he couldn't, she asked her partner, "Can't you get a clear shot?"

He grimaced without looking back, not daring to lose sight of his agile prey, "Nope, as always, this bastard's moving too fast."

"Backup?" she asked, pressing her heel deep into the floor of the unmarked car, pushing 45 on civilian territory to keep up with the roof-jumping criminal. As always, Ushio had said, and that seemed about right. As always, this guy was a few steps ahead, out of their reach, as always, he moved with just enough grace that he couldn't be shot down, as always, he reached speeds that were impossible for a human beings, as always, she wondered if the myths that he was a demon was as true as those who claimed he was a psychic...

As always, as always, as always....

"Kazumi's coming with his new partner," Ushio replied, then added, "And I think they're bringing company. He won't get away easy tonight."

Ah, but they both knew he probably would. Why would tonight be any different? A limp in the man's strides did not make him a target or slow him down, as a matter of fact, it was probably a façade so that this guy could train himself to doge them at close quarters.

The Shadowhunter had done it before.

"Good," was all she said, signaling the end of their conversation. Conveniently, this was also when the sounds of two approaching D-Wheels and several more cars would have drowned out any afterthoughts as Kazumi's team slid in from a joining street, lights blazing with jeers.

"You're too slow tonight!" he shouted up at the Shadowhunter, grinning at the silver figure in the eerie moonlight.

"Nice of you to show up," Ushio shouted, the insult a joke among brothers. Kazumi grinned to show he understood and fell in line next to them, making quick work of the machine's powerful engine. His new partner rode beside him quietly, glaring up at the figure on the roofs.

For a moment Ushio saw something that he shouldn't have, something in the man's hidden eyes that resembled fear or panic or maybe even hate, something at drove him to turn towards the cliffs that were approaching and leap from the last building, landing on the run much farther than he should have been able to.

In that moment, Ushio had read his unseen face as if he had shouted his thoughts: _Already?! There should have been more time than—_

Hope rose in his chest; something that usually only Yusei could elicit.

The cliffs were upon them.

The sound of braking tires spurred the Shadowhunter on the last few feet, his eyes already set on some point in the blue distance. With the motion of a half-sent prayer, Ushio tumbled out of the car's door, drawing and aiming to wound before killing, already expecting the murderer to be gone. But that man's breaths were labored where they were once strong, his legs were shaking where they had been solid, and his heart was weak were it had been stone.

For another one of those fated moments, Ushio heard the man's soul as if it were his own: _If I jumped, would the fall kill me? Would I fail yet again tonight? _

Then in a wildly familiar gesture, his enemy grabbed his right arm and prepared to jump. Ushio knew he was too late to hit when the weapon was steady in his hands, knew it was too late, but needed to take that shot, for _somebody_ to take it.

Fate agreed.

"I won't allow you to escape!"

Someone skidded in front of him, the lights of his D-Wheel begging him to stop as the machine flipped, sending its rider arching through the air. Mouth agape, Ushio watched the Shadowhunter stumble and turn, felt his eyes widen with disbelief, and then watched as they tumbled to the dust in sync with the cheers of Security and the sound of a D-Wheel plummeting off the edge, taking his salvation with it.

Cheers were infectious, even Mikage had let one loose as she exited her vehicle, gun drawn, looking strange in her docile hands. Without glancing at each other they circled closer to the tumbling assailants, watching the two crash into the surrounding boulders, kicking up a mean dust that blocked them from their shots.

A body rose quickly, but lurched even swifter, falling back against the stone as if the air had all been knocked out of him. They all aimed, flanked by their partners (except for Kazumi, for his partner was the unlikely hero tonight) and waiting for their vision to clear. The fighting men had no such reservations, as was shown when the missing body suddenly appeared in the gasping man's blind spot, pinning the other to the ground with a hard jerk that jarred the earth.

Silver cuffs flashed in the top one's hands, and we cheered once more, disbelieving but incredibly hopeful. This was it, the moment of truth...

When actually, it was just the root of a tangled forest of lies. Regardless to those, fate cared not about the complaints of man, the cuffs found their way onto the murder's wrists, earning a half smothered gasp as if the offender was burned. The victorious officer leaned down and whispered something in his captive's ear, yielding no expression but disgust from the victim's face.

They all laughed.

In a tizzy, the rest of the officers approached, surrounding them in a tough group. The unnamed partner (who's name was about to go down in history, just as he was) grinned up at them suavely, asking them to admire his catch.

If Security had known the true cunning nature of the person below him, they would never have taken their eyes off him. Because that gave him a distraction—an opportunity, just as the loose nail had proved to be his victory in the Dyne Mines of the town he was desperately trying to reach.

"Lift him up! Careful—he's dangerous!" Kazumi advised, though the mirth in his voice reduced the effect. The shifting of his sharp knees on the small of his back alerted him of his chance. Slowly, he inched his bound hands painfully towards the thick belt strapped around his waist, praying that the movement wouldn't catch the officers' eyes.

His captor laughed aloud again, giving the Shadowhunter a hard shake for good measure, "Please, I've got him cuffed! There's nothing he can do!"

His fingers closed around a familiar tube of polished glass.

"All the same," Mikage voiced, her heels clicking against the dry ground as her gun lowered a few inches, "you three over there, cut off his path to the cliffs. We don't want to take any chances tonight."

Another silent curse escaped the bound man's lips. There was no escaping them, but there was still the matter at hand to be attended to...

"I'm lifting him!" he announced triumphantly, jerking his fists up painfully, keeping his own hands wrapped around the burned wrists. Ushio moved backwards a smidgen to let the hero breathe, but stopped dead at the look on the captive's mouth, all he could see behind the half mask and hood.

The hard line of a determined frown he had only seen one other man wear.

"Grab him!" Ushio demanded, gesturing with his gun a little rougher than necessary. Ironic that one order was enough to play into the enemy's hands.

"Yes, sir!" he replied, grabbing the top of his hooded head and forcing it down. "Any last words Shadowhunter?"

Risking a sharp glare back at his twisted face, he played the last hands of his cover, hoping against hope it wasn't completely blown, "Just one."He sneered and took one step forward—one step to much._"Ithuriel."_

Ushio's worry spiked, and he managed to blurt "What did he—?" before... before...

The question was drowned out by the unearthly scream of their fellow officer as a blade drove deep into his gut. His grip failed him, and the Shadowhunter slashed free of his restraints, leaving their remains to burn out in the dirt. He stumbled in a manner that showed he was still reeling and flinched a bit as if fully expecting someone to pull the trigger, to stun or kill, but no one moved.

No one saw the weapon slip from his limp hands and fall to the floor.

All eyes were trained on the officer down as he leaked ink black blood all over the reddish cliffs, screeching into the night an unearthly wail that had his officers frozen in place. Chalk white, they watched as he spluttered horrible things as he steadily grew blacker and fainter; his body folding into itself and vanishing, leaving the earth exactly as it was before, leaving nothing to prove that he had even existed.

The officers turned with delayed shock, pointing their weapons at the ground, jaws open and eyes wide. With arms held high in surrender, the Shadowhunter bowed his head and did the only thing that would prevent them from persecuting him immediately.

"Now that you have me," he said, freeing the mask from his face. Blood stained the white surface like sin, and he looked Ushio straight in the eye, "what will you do?"

The silence was broken by his weapon falling to the floor.

"Yusei?"

* * *

**3:00am**

**Carley's Interview**

"WHAT?!" she exploded, gaping at them as if they had gone absolutely insane. "PEOPLE DON'T JUST DISAPPEAR WHEN THEY DIE!! ARE YOU ALL CRAZY?!?!"

That, of course, was not the question that needed to be asked, but it was the best her mind could come up with at the moment, as a matter of fact, it seemed stuck on the concept somehow, as if it weren't really that surprising after all, as if she had seen it happen herself.

Indeed, by the look on the Signer's faces, she figured she _had_ seen it, experienced it even. As a Dark Signer. Her mouth snapped decisively closed, then opened again, just as quickly, "Then this guy was some kind of Dark Signer-thing? Or a Ghost set to disintegrate upon destruction and Yusei saw that and saved you all!"

Because, really, there was no denying the fact that Yusei was the one with the knife, Yusei was the one with the stained half-mask, and Yusei was the one whose gloves were covered in thick, black blood that could be oil.

Ushio paused, understanding everything he had felt a bit more, and replied, "That could be... but the fact remains that Yusei had a knife in the first place, and if he truly is the Shadowhunter, then... this would not be his first kill."

"Who the heck is the Shadowhunter?" Crow finally blurted, blowing a strand of his hair from his face to distract himself. His face was impassive, but they knew later it would be glowing with sadness, so they didn't comment.

"He's..." Mikage and Ushio exchanged a glance, a rather annoying habit the two had picked up when dealing with classified information and civilians. A dark glare from the head of the table set them in motion, and they both admitted, "We don't know exactly... that's why this case is so delicate."

"How do you not know?" Ruca asked with a small frown, pulling at her small hands into a prayer before her.

Mikage answered, "It's... complicated. He's someone who we know is a criminal, but has no evidence against. He's someone who can only be either a Psycho Duelist or a demon, and openly scoffs at the idea of being a psychic. He's someone who doesn't need a mask to keep a secret, because the face behind it can't be remembered by anyone who's witnessed it. He's someone who appeared nearly three years ago in the Damon Area on a security recording jumping someone in an alley, but the body was never found. He's..."

"... a mystery," Carley finished rather cryptically, "like Yusei."

That comparison eagerly bit her in the arse, earning her more than her fair share of outraged cries, to which she batted her hands and reached for her pen insisting, "That's not what I meant!"

"Stop fighting," Ruca pleaded, small against all the raised voices echoing around them. "Carley's not the enemy; she's just trying to figure out what's going on. We all should be doing that."

"Exactly!" Rua piped up, swatting his sister on the shoulder energetically. "It could be like Carley said! That lady Sherry said that Yliaster is connected to Ghost, right? And Yliaster's been around forever!"

"So these Ghosts could have been in society for years now," Crow added with a thoughtful frown. "But that doesn't explain why Yusei..."

"Yusei is innocent!" Jack demanded, slamming his fists on the table once more. "You two said that there were differences between what happened tonight and what's happened before—tonight Yusei was set up for this!"

"Maybe not just tonight..." Carley trailed off, chewing on the pen cap with concentration. "Has Yusei been acting strangely at all lately? Something that we can tie into him being replaced by Ghost?"

"Impossible!" Jack huffed just as Crow muttered, "Well..."

The two duelists looked at each other in confusion, and Crow continued, "There was this time... I don't know if it's strange by Ghost standards, but by Yusei's it was."

Jack's face cleared and he added, "Oh, you mean with Izayoi."

"Aki?" Rua repeated. "Are you talking about their date?"

In synch with a sigh from Ruca, the rest turned and stared in open mouthed astonishment. "What date?!"

"I _told_ you it wasn't a date Rua," the youngest female Signer mumbled, elbowing him before explaining, "He's talking about when Yusei brought us and Aki to the roller rink to teach Aki how to balance so she wouldn't hurt herself on the track."

"Hey!" he shot back indignantly, crossing his arms, "Even you said that they were making each other really happy and wondered whether or not it was a date!"

"_Rua,_" she said impatiently, leaving it at that. Scolded, he sat back and pouted, looking back towards the others, who were deep in thought.

"That might..." Mikage and Crow locked eyes across the table, startled by the sound of the other's voice. The latter gave a meek half-grin and a 'after you' gesture, prompting speech. She nodded and spoke, "The Security Officer who alerted us about the Shadowhunter... He is one of the Senator's Officers, and was patrolling the borders when he saw Aki being carried by a young man. He waited politely because it wasn't his place to intervene, but then saw all of the dried blood running down her leg... He charged forward, meaning to help, thinking that she had just stumbled and that her lover had steadied her, but Aki turned around and fell into the man, allowing the Shadowhunter... Yusei... to escape. She stumbled to her home, and he called us, sending an ambulance to her home and us after Yusei."

"But wait—that's where the switch could have taken place!" Bruno piped up, drumming his fingers together. "Between the times Yusei was running and Security found the Shadowhunter man!"

"So Yusei might not have anything to do with Aki being hurt after all," Carley finished, sending Mikage a rather smug victory sign. "It was Ghost that had Aki, and—"

"Wait! That makes sense!" Crow exclaimed, suddenly vibrating with the fever of humor once more. "Yusei and Aki drove the twins home so that they wouldn't have to walk in the dark, then Yusei was going to drive with Aki to make sure she got by safely around the bridge! So there's no way Aki would have to be walked home—she left on her D-Wheel with Yusei!"

"So they were attacked after they dropped us off?" Rua and Ruca exchanged horrified glances, wondering if it had been luck or schemes that had spared them from the carnage.

"And what that woman was saying!" Jack shouted, coming into the conversation strong. "About how she hoped Yusei would not be her enemy—she suspected the identity of the next Ghost to be Yusei!"

Scratching down notes with alarming speed, Carley spouted, "So Ghost Yusei attacked the real Yusei and Aki, hurting her and taking Yusei like they did you Jack!"

"And Sherry?" Bruno asked, "How does she come into play?"

That drew a pause in their conversation, a lull that was filled by Ushio's suggestion, "Let's pick up where we started. This interrogation is leading to much better results that Yusei's..."

"Ghost," Rua cheerfully reminded him.

They turned to Crow, remembering his earlier exclamation of the word. He shook his head and gestured towards Bruno, "I think we need to hear about this Sherry person before I say anything. And Bruno, you seem to know her more than the rest of us, although Aki and Yusei seemed to get her even more."

"Yusei knew her before I did," Bruno agreed, something alien coming into his eyes for a moment. It was an almost cold look, but before it could be questioned, it had vanished, replaced by his usual bumbling attitude. "This is all I know: Her parents were killed by Yliaster in order to get a card from her, and she was nearly killed as well. She's out for revenge against Yliaster and she's willing to go to extremes to find the truth."

He rubbed his jaw as if remember a near blow and continued, "She also wanted Yusei on her team for the WRGP, but he obviously refused her."

"What about the man?" Mikage asked. "The one who knocked the table into Ushio and I while Sherry stole Yusei?"

"Yusei's Ghost," Rua insisted, ignored by the general population.

"I don't know much about him, but Yusei dueled him, he'd know a lot by now," Bruno admitted with a shrug. "He did say that he was indebted to Yusei, I don't know why, and that's probably why they came here to break him out."

"And when did all of this happen exactly?" Crow wondered. The look was there again, passing like a rain cloud on a windy day above the Daedalus Bridge.

"I..." he spared an almost apologetic glance at the two officers and muttered, "that might be when the Super Computer was blown out."

_"WHAT?!"_ they shouted, leaning inwards with consistency that only partners could have. Blushing once more, Bruno waved his arms apologetically and continued, "Yusei and I were in the elevator when the power went out, and so we were stuck inside the building."

Spouting something akin to a chuckle, Crow muttered, "That would be Yusei's luck all right."

"But the bomb threat—even though it wasn't real you must have heard the warning," Mikage pressed, narrowing her eyes at the man she and Ushio had found on the beach months earlier. He gave her a weak grin once more.

"Well, we heard and as soon as we pried open the elevator doors..." he trailed off, thinking hard about how to form his next sentence.

"Spare us," Ushio complained with a forceful wave of his big hands. "Don't edit anything out to protect that woman; we need to know everything we can if we are to make sense of this mess."

"Yeah," Carley agreed, adding a few side notes in the small journal triumphantly. "The best stories are the true ones, and if we can't get that truth, then this will only become more dangerous for both Yusei and Sherry."

"Everyone deserves to know the truth about themselves."

"Eh?" Rua asked. Bruno rested his chin on his folded hands and sighed, shaking his head.

"Nothing," he replied with a bitter echo. Then he launched into the story: a tale of stopped elevators, faked bomb threats, secret cards, faithful friends, fights, duels, a strange blast of light, and then waking up across the city, back on the shores of the Satellite.

"Sherry said something about the light," Ruca proposed when he finished, small hands folded in hopeful prayer. "She said that she saw something in that, the leader of Yliaster maybe, but that she didn't know."

"Come to think of it," Rua added with a little frown, "she looked at Yusei very harshly when she said it, so Yusei must have seen it too... or she thought..."

Bruno found several pairs of eyes cutting into him, and he did the best he could to preserve his mission, he shook and head and closed his eyes, "I only saw a white room. The other two turned around and gasped, but by the time I started to turn, we were already on the beach."

"Are you sure?" Mikage inquired, pressing hard against his lie with her trusting gaze. He shook his head, then added a small truth.

"Yusei saw it for sure, he asked me what I thought it was, and when I told him I don't know, I didn't see it, he repeated 'it?' and then had this weird... look about him."

They were hooked. "Look?"

He nodded and elaborated, "Like he was upset by it, but he got over it quickly."

"Geez, you really don't understand Yusei yet, do you?" Crow jabbed, drawing an injured flash in his own eyes before Bruno could even register the insult. "Yusei doesn't 'get over' things very easily. He hides his problems and keeps them quiet until they burst out."

Curious, "Has this happened before?"

"Once, but that's a different story," Jack cut in. "We're dancing in circles. Get back to what happened before—in the interrogation room. There's no way that wasn't Yusei—I know Yusei well enough to tell the difference between him and a hunk of machinery."

Crow scoffed darkly, "Jack, _Yusei_ didn't even realize that you had been replaced with that Ghost. Get off your high horse already; this is no time for individual plays."

The chastised's mouth flew open with a hot retort, but was covered by Carley's extended hand. "Shush, Jack, you're both right. If we get into an argument here, no one will be helping Yusei. So talk! Let's decide after we hear all the sides of this story."

He relented to her, the only one who held that kind of power over him, "It started with Yusei's damn silence."

"And ended with Sherry's explosion."

* * *

**Does anyone know what this is crossed over with yet? PM me if you do, don't leave it in a review for everyone to see. ;)**

**Thanks for reading,**

**AxJfan**


	4. Trees in a Forest: Part 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own 5ds or the series this is crossed over with. Joy to all.**

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* * *

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**Chapter 3**

**Trees in a Forest**

**Part 2**

**Flashback Sequence**

**Third Person POV**

They were sent in one by one.

It didn't take a Momentum Scientist to see that Yusei was ill, so when the people he was closest to entered that room, they could see it immediately. A quick search for weapons had revealed no injuries to speak of besides a cut on his cheek, so the glazed look was blamed on shock.

The rest were skeptical—what did it take to shock someone who's seen the dead rise?

"Five minutes," Kazumi warned them, peering through the small blue window. "Only five, then the next goes in."

First was Jack, unsurprisingly, as he always felt the need to charge ahead of the others to do his own plays. He had nothing to offer but angry remarks about Security Screw-ups before assuring Yusei, in his own way, that justice would be rectified.

Because he loved him, Yusei said nothing. By the time Jack realized this, his time was up.

Next was Crow, flighty and anxious to be within yet another interrogation room. Fleetingly, they shared the images of their last disastrous visit to one of these rooms and lapsed into edgy silence. The expected flow of raunchy jokes about Ghost Hunts and Security did not come, breaking something fragile between them.

In the end, neither of them said anything.

"Are you ok?" Ruca had asked in a small voice, allowed in with her brother because of their age and tight bonds. He had not said a thing, but did not need to. She felt the answer through her mark and Rua saw it in his dull eyes.

No, no he wasn't.

Bruno followed the others, hesitant in a way that he had never been around Yusei before. His first question, and the only one of its nature to come from a close friend tonight, was of the murder he had been accused of.

His last was simple, "Why?"

Once again, sharp blue eyes met his question, but the silence reigned. It was at this point that Jack grew angry from the other side of that door, listening to the quiet and reflecting back on the fight it had caused he and Yusei in the past. He knew undoubtedly that Yusei would think of that as well, and wondered if it would loosen his tongue.

When their time was up, Ushio and Mikage went in and began their own endless stream of questions, eliciting no answer from the young man other than a half-said, "I don't want them to." Then he spoke about them in a low voice, words that chilled them the same way it set Ushio off.

Why wouldn't he be able to come to them? Was that a confession? That couldn't be possible! This was Yusei!

Then... everything went to hell.

Whatever was ailing their star had clawed its way to the surface, his face tightening, his breath halting, his hands clenching, and then he began to sway where he sat, as if about ready to faint. Ushio questioned him hesitantly with his partner backing him up, but the questions soon turned to hysterics and then open panic as the suspect's head drooped down to his hands.

Mikage, desperate, reached for a pulse to find none.

_Ushio—a doctor, I can't feel his heart—_

And just when they were collectively thinking that they couldn't just stand there and watch him die, someone else acted.

An explosion rocked the interrogation wall behind Yusei, ripping him from his manacles and flipping him across the room, where he collided heavily with the blue floor and did not rise. Debris rained from the gaping fanged mouth in the wall, illuminating two dark figures on their D-Wheels as they leered in the entrance, eyes aglow.

The lights went out, and following the smoke, they vanished into the room, silent and deadly.

With an acute cry of "Yusei!" all restraint his friends held burst. Bruno's adept hands hacked the locked door's code in the blink of an eye while five bodies shoved their way through. The smell of burnt metal and flesh fouled their noses and stung their eyes, making it nearly impossible to make sense of anything. Smoke clung to the walls, ceiling, and floor, misting the characters lost within, and they hesitated, twisting towards the direction they had last seen their friends.

"Yusei! Mikage! Ushio!"

"Get back-up! Help! Someone get in here! Yusei!" Ushio's voice called, echoing around the thick smog and high ceilings, giving away nothing. "Don't—"

_Yusei! Don't you dare touch him you bastards!_

The high whine of shattering metal drowned the rest of his sentence, followed shortly by two loud shouts and the bang of the once secure table pinning the officers to a wall. Rua and Ruca screamed, and with a wave of her arm, her many spirits appeared, lighting the chaos.

As the smoke cleared out the gaping hole and into the night, they spotted Yusei's prone figure sprawled on his back, leaned over by a fierce woman with the stained white half-mask he had dropped on the cliffs. Long, fine hair flowed around her form and framed her unknown face, gracing her with beauty in the low light. But despite her loveliness, nothing about the woman was fragile.

She displayed such with the duel disk attached to her arm, cackling and glowing with the hue of electricity.

"Sherry!" Bruno shouted. Completely ignoring him, she brought down the tazer she had tried to hit him with before, nailing Yusei straight in the heart.

"YUSEI!!"

Jack and Crow lunged for the woman as his body convulsed and his eyes shot open, burning with more than agony. Perhaps it was the coiling smog, Fate, or that they were so pointed on their target that they failed to notice the large bulk of another. For the second time tonight, a Signer was tackled to the floor before reaching salvation, sending them colliding into each other, then the wall with a small quake that rocked the room.

The smoke twisted around them once more, greedily protecting its hoard.

"Crow! Jack!" Rua called, skidding to a halt. The other unnamed man held his arms out wide, blocking them from Sherry and Yusei. Locking eyes with Bruno, he said, "I will not let you get to my Lady this time."

The sounds of Security Officers from above were heard, answering the Ushio's distress call. Knowing they wouldn't make it in time, Ruca acted as a Signer should have, shouting, "Leave Yusei alone! Regalus!"

She pointed at the man blocking their way and the lion roared into life, taking him down with large paws and sheer weight, refusing to harm him under Ruca's careful instruction.

With a startled cheer, Rua caught his sister as she swayed under the strain of her powers, threatening to join Yusei on the floor. Regalus and Mizoguchi wrestled in the dust, clearing the way forward for the one remaining. The revving of an engine stopped him cold, blew debris and smoke away, and revealed the blazing red D-Wheel he knew so well, rode by the woman with Yusei crammed behind her, his head lolling on her shoulder.

The mask was gone.

Taking a risky lunge no one would have thought him capable of, Bruno blocked the exit with his body, spreading his arms like Mizoguchi had before, begging her, "Sherry! Yusei needs help! You can't just...!"

The dull roar of Yusei's engine cut him off, telling him _exactly_ what she _could_ do. Her emerald eyes were level with him as they squared off in debate, and she offered, voice low, "The search for the truth is never pleasant, never easy, and never fulfilling as the blissful ignorance we had once shared. But we must push aside our pain and find it, for our lives hang in that deadly balance."

His eyes widened and his arms shook, but he did not yield, "Sherry, I can't just..."

She wrapped Yusei's hands together around her waist with her belt before looking at him again, beautiful and deadly and misguided. Perhaps even a bit insane. "You helped me once in the search for my truth Bruno. For that I must thank you, and ask you another favor. Step down and trust me. I will save Yusei. There's still more left between us that can't die here."

Her eyes were imploring, and he knew that this was difficult for her, someone who spent her life taking and running, to ask for help from someone she barely knew. Her hands were tight around Yusei's as she waited with her mind on Mizoguchi as he rolled of the lion and ran for the exit, where his machine lied in wait for him.

"Bruno," she continued as the door at the other end of the hallway crashed open, heedless to the noise, "My actions have just saved his life. I am not afraid of death in order for my revenge, but I do not want to cause it. Let me complete the act."

"Sherry..."

"My Lady!" Mizoguchi shouted, mounting his own ride. The officers burst into the room, guns drawn, and Bruno saw her more clearly than he had seen anyone before.

He nodded.

The full moon dyed her hair and eyes silver as she locked eyes with him, grateful in silent wonderment. Maybe even a little bit suspicious. She revved the engine while he side-stepped, knocking him over with a swipe from her fist. Feeling no pain, he fell backwards with a small scream as if she had hit him with more, tumbling to his back and lying in dazed surprise; wondering, not for the first time, just what he was thinking in letting that woman go.

That was not the mission.

* * *

**Conference Room**

**3:00 am**

The glow from the clock illuminated their doubts sharply against each other, eyes confused and mistrustful.

"Sherry said that by taking Yusei she would be saving him, while finding the truth?" Ruca asked finally, lying her head down on her hands. Fear had kept her and her brother wide awake in these early morning hours, but now a gentle sort of relief was sweeping over them; the kind that was the fault for children and teenagers everywhere.

"Then he's safe somewhere, right?" Carley wondered, looking at Jack, reflecting on his words.

_That damned woman drove off the damned bridge!_

The royal duelist jerked his head in disagreement, muttering, "I don't know about that, something strange is going on here."

"Ahh," Crow agreed softly, gazing out the window with pain in his gray eyes. "It may have been a Ghost that Sherry grabbed instead of Yusei, that would make sense considering what happened... but it might not have been. Yusei's just so..."

He made a half strange, half rude gesture with his uninjured hand before continuing, "And if it is, there's no guarantee that Yusei will be like Jack was—locked up somewhere without being hurt."

Jack scowled at the memory, but the head of the table was mercifully quiet.

"Then, this is the last part of the scoop?" Carley wondered, turning to a new page with interest. The two duelists exchanged forlorn glances and sighed, stating:

"Not by a long shot."

* * *

**Flashback Sequence**

**Jack and Crow—Third Person POV**

**Daedalus Bridge**

Bruno's startled outcry jarred their swimming consciousnesses back to the surface. They both leapt up from where the man had knocked them silly, Jack clutching his head, Crow his shoulder. Hissing about repeating injuries, the two charged through the swaying world of smoke.

"Yusei?!" they hollered together as they swept their way through the room.

"Jack, Crow! Over here!" Mikage coughed, voice labored with her struggles. The two ran without hesitation, holding their arms out before them to ward off the gray. They stumbled upon them almost immediately, trapped beneath the heavy steel table Yusei had been bound to. The destroyed manacles were coated in bits of flesh and blood.

Empowered by disgust and worry, the two duelists freed the officers from it, and demanded, "Where is he?!"

"She took him," Bruno's fallen figure was mistaken for his and the amnesia case pointed outwards, mouthed the woman's name.

Jack had already started forwards by the time Ushio told them to wait, and was already at the gaping hole and into the night when he reached up and took down the security camera from its mount, handing it to Crow with a half-heard, "Go!"

They raced out into the open night without looking back, heedless of injury or calls for them.

Swerving out of the parking lot, they spotted the crimson blur of Yusei's D-Wheel in the distance. Sharing glances rather than words, the two sprinted to the places they had dumped their machines in their haste to get to Yusei earlier.

Crow mounted Blackbird and wondered how far he could go without Bruno driving him. Jack revved the Wheel of Fortune and lowered his visor, sparing his companion a glance. With a shout that could easily be from anger or pain, Crow tore out first, disrupting the flow of traffic with his speedy tires.

_This pain is nothing!_ he told himself, _Nothing compared to saving Yusei!_

Jack rode close behind, stopping any cars that dared to start with a glare of his violet eyes. He soon overtook his struggling comrade, squinting to spot the red machine in the distance. Nothing.

"Turn on the video call!" Crow hissed, flinching towards his right arm as he willed himself further. "We can track her through Yusei's Dueling System!"

Taking the order heedlessly, Jack activated the feature on the Wheel of Fortune. To his immense surprise, the woman answered, glancing at the screen with tight lips. Before he could get a word in, she ordered, "Don't follow us Jack Atlas. If you interfere it's likely that Yusei will die."

"As if we could stop!" Crow shouted, looking at the King intently. Jack nodded in agreement, slipping the necessary card out of its special location.

"Speed World II, activate!" he commanded. The woman at the opposite end gasped as Yusei's D-Wheel synched to it, surprised at the unusual feature. Gloating, Jack said, "Yusei's and Aki's D-Wheels, Blackbird, and the Wheel of Fortune can synch no matter what the distance, so long as there's an initial signal between them."

Her green eyes narrowed, shadowed by her hair, "Why would you do that?"

"With all the vandalism and stolen D-Wheel reports because of the WRGP," Crow grinned, teeth gleaming to hide his pain, "Yusei and Bruno decided we should have a fail safe for tracking ours."

Her gaze became an outright glare that was almost painful to hold. "Regardless, don't follow. Stay out of this madness."

Buildings flew past at incredible speeds, streetlights faded into one blurred line of light, and the red dot that signaled Yusei's D-Wheel glowed on Jack's screen as he demanded, "And what would you know about this madness woman?! You, who don't even know Yusei?!"

She scoffed what might have been a grin once and then answered, "Izayoi accused me of the same thing. But it's like I said before, do you think I wouldn't know someone who I wanted on my team?"

"Aki said—?" Crow started, but then Jack's display went blank, pulling up the map of the city with Yusei's blinking target instead. "She hung up."

With that hanging between them, Jack led the way towards their friend, following the light from Yusei's careful nature and Bruno's ingenious mechanics. The night was silent except for the roars from their engines, Crow's soft grunts of pain, and the occasional exclamation of news vans or reporters.

Nothing needed to be said, they were on a mission as nakama, one that they couldn't afford to fail.

"She's stopped!" Jack exclaimed suddenly, narrowing his eyes at the screen. Crow cocked an eyebrow behind him, tearing his gaze from the shoreline they raced next to and towards the duelist in front of him.

"Does she intend to face us directly?" he wondered.

"If she does, I as the King will destroy her and reclaim Yusei!" Jack replied, pushing his machine faster and further. Frowning, Crow turned towards the waters once more, watching the moon trek across it with silent contemplation.

_Sherry defeated all three opponents by herself._

_"I will not lose while I have my goal."_

He clenched his good fist and asked, "How far?"

"Around this corner," Jack replied, preparing for a fight with a woman equal to both Yusei and Andre, two people that he had lost against before. The corner came quickly, and they swerved around it in time to witness a new rider burst free from the warehouse at the end of the street, soaring through debris on the same D-Wheel Sherry had arrived at their garage on hours ago.

Braking hard, the two Signers gaped at the sight: Sherry with her hair hidden beneath her helmet, a man to any prying eyes, and Yusei with a bright red wig jammed on his head under a matching helm, a female passenger enjoying a ride with her boyfriend.

The three driver's eyes locked as the woman landed a block away from them.

_You followed._

_I won't let you escape!_

_Why are you doing this?!_

It would have been strangely comical to see Yusei like that at any other time, but the humor had vanished from Crow's mind with his friend's delicate state. Sherry took off once more, storming the bridge like a man showing off to his lover.

Her guard man shot off in the other direction atop Yusei's D-Wheel, meaning to be the decoy to give his Lady a clean get away. If they had appeared one second later, it would have worked.

"She's good," Crow muttered, taking pursuit once more.

The blond woman spared him a glance in Yusei's rearview mirror and took the challenge, spurring the machine further still. Cursing, the King did likewise, aware through his mark of Crow's stubborn plight beside him, of Yusei's heavy state of unconsciousness. Then the latter was gone, but not dead, that would have been different.

A King would know.

"Jack—try to duel her! Make her slow down!" Crow grunted, right eye closed with the pain from his shoulder. Ordinarily his tall friend would reject any order, but not tonight. Tonight they had learned the meaning of being a team, and tonight Jack would finally play his part in one.

"Speed World II!" Jack shouted, punching the button. The error screen appeared closely afterwards, telling him that the distance was too great still. Thanking both the gods and Yusei for the new engine system, he pushed forward harder. To his chagrin, that woman did the same, keeping the distance between them equal. "Outrun me will you?!"

They flitted between reporter's vans, ignored the flashes of cameras that lit the street in stop-motion animation, and twisted past corners at speeds that only experts could handle, willing themselves faster still.

"Why did you take him?!" Crow demanded of his prey as they rounded another bend, heading for the great bridge into the Satellite area. She looked back once more, the green in her eyes illuminated by the full moon.

Now that her attention was gained, he continued, "You hurt Bruno in order to take him—are you trying to steal him onto your team? For your revenge? So he won't be your enemy? What is it Sherry—what do you want with him?!"

Her eyes narrowed, "The truth."

Jack grunted and followed, closer now, and tried to activate Speed World II once more. No luck. She mounted the bridge, rising high into the inky, starless night.

"Closer!" he shouted, and they were pressing forward once more, determined on catching or tailing this woman to her destination. They entered forty five seconds later: an eternity to the three speeding D-Wheels.

She turned back a few times, the last to glance at the figure behind her as he stirred. Relief came into them at the sight; if Yusei was awake he could slow her down, he could escape on his own if all else failed.

Indeed, the man under the red wig was moving, but as if still lost in a dream, turning his head about in confusion that did not suit his silent personality. They disappeared around a high point of the bridge and Yusei's body started violently, coming more alert it seemed, and hope rose in their chests.

There was a minute of tense silence as they breached the bridge's initial height, approaching the flat stretch, as they waited for the sounds of struggle to be carried to them by the wind.

That evaporated at a sound they only heard once before in these past few months: Yusei's laughter. Their friend had always had a somewhat cruel laugh, created from living in the Satellite among criminals or his own self hatred they supposed, but this was far worse than that low chuckle.

If they had witnessed his part in murdering Divine or his desert duel with Kiryu, they would have mixed the two together to find this horrible sound. He burned with hysteria through their marks, and the noise was pleasing in a horrifying way, carried and distorted by the wind, and true fear gripped their hearts in a way not even the Dark Signers had.

They both knew that although he had lightened up these past few months—had started pocking his face out from behind his mask—it was nearly impossible to make him laugh like that. That ability had left Yusei with Kiryu's death nearly three years ago, and although a chuckle wasn't too uncommon now, this harsh laughter was out of the question. This noise...

This was insanity.

As they watched Sherry pass two surprised nightly truckers, they saw she knew it as well. Her elbow found its way into his gut, cutting off the noise and waking his eyes as effectively as any slap. Though his gasp was swallowed by the wind, they knew that scar well enough to know the blow would hurt him.

His mark burned with a different kind of hysteria now, they realized as he looked around himself: panic.

"Yusei!" they called and he looked back, wild eyed and confused.

That was the last they saw of him.

_("Was it Ghost?" Carley inquired with a frown, touching Jack's extended arm. Her fingers brushed against his silent Birthmark and he drew away, looking towards the dark sky._

_"Yes... and no," Crow replied instead, massaging his shoulder as if recounting the memory revived his pain. "There was just so many of them..."_

_"It was an army," Jack intercepted, locking eyes with the Security Officers, then Bruno. "I believe that they are the thieves of our original program."_

_"A theft? Why didn't you report it?!" Mikage jumped, spreading her fingers across the table. He huffed and Crow replied, "Considering it was the Acting Director Demon Clown that took it, I don't think much could have been done."_

_"What?! Jea—?" Ushio began, to be silenced by Rua._

_"Shush! We'll talk about that later—finish up! What happened?")_

"Sherry! Move!" he hollered, knocking his loosely bound hands against the steering unit of her D-Wheel. Unable to do anything, Jack and Crow watched their closest friend swerve heavily to the right, towards the glass of the bridge, just as everything took another turn for hell.

The trunks that Sherry overtook exploded. Ghosts rained from the containers like fiery hailstorm, dumping onto the bridge where Sherry's D-Wheel had been only moments before, crackling with the promise of a duel to the death. Fifty metallic grins gleamed under the false light from the moon, shouting in synchronized chaos, activating the trap of Speed World II.

Even though the distance was impossible, Jack and Crow's D-Wheels shuddered from the result, anticipating a duel.

"W-What is this?!" Sherry cried, staring with delayed horror at the sight before her, allowing Yusei to maneuver her D-Wheel away from the brunt of the action with his bound hands.

_He's going to get me!_

The glow of white, red, and silver in the distance that had marked the female wheeler vanished under the onslaught of black and gray, swallowed by the raging current of Ghosts.

"Yusei!!" Crow shouted, regaining his voice. He activated his duel monitor with a jerk of his thumb, catching the tail end of the powerful signal. His screen registered fifty vs. one briefly before enveloping in a mass of static errors and shutting down, hissing with heat and electricity. "Damn..."

"Sherry!"

Yusei's voice, miraculously clear and clipped, drifted to meet them in the final winds of disaster. The rest of his sentence drowned in the cackle of Ghost as they demanded of Sherry, "Take the first turn!"

For a moment the sea parted and they saw the glow of her white suit as she turned back to Yusei, face intent and deadly, listening to his urgent whisper, knowing to accept would mean ultimate defeat and death. Then her expression cleared as Yusei worked his hands free and took one of hers, and she shouted, "I will! Ore no turn!"

_("WHAT?!" Carley shouted, biting her shirt with complete awe and horror. "IF SHE DID THAT THEN THEY COULD ALL TAKE HER OUT THE NEXT TURN! FIFTY AGAINST ONE?! TWO WITH YUSEI, BUT EVEN THE TWO OF THEM COULDN'T—"_

_"SHUT UP!"_

_"Oh, she took the first turn alright," Crow muttered, and suddenly Jack's earlier exclamation made perfect sense._

_"So then she...?"_

_"Just finish the story already!")_

And she jerked her D-Wheel sharply to the right in the path of the full moon, crashing straight through the glass barriers of the Dueling Bridges and its silver reflection in the waves, where the water swallowed them whole.

* * *

**Conference Room**

**Third Person POV**

**3:00am**

"The Ghosts went on; their mission was more or less complete... Yusei and Sherry were most likely dead."

_Glass danced around her as her body crashed through the window, and she worried fleetingly what would happen if she landed on it in a way only denial could bring on, then she realized it wouldn't matter what she landed on, it was the landing that was the problem, Jack couldn't catch her this time. Jack. Jack. Jack!_

To fill the silence, Crow added, "They were going so fast that they cut straight through the glass. They fell right into the water... and they didn't come back up."

Carley's head popped back up at the sound of his voice, and she cast an alarmed look around the table, her lapse of attention completely unnoticed. He gestured to himself and finished, "The Ghosts left us alone completely. I guess they were just programmed to stop Sherry or because we were out of dueling range they couldn't sense us. So Jack and I dove into the ocean from the bridge and..."

He trailed off as if he didn't trust them to believe what happened next. Then, realizing that this group had witnessed much stranger things (there was someone who had died once in their midst) he looked towards Jack to continue.

"They weren't there," Jack ended. His fists hit the table once more; reaching for someone he had lost once more, unable to grasp even dust this time. "Not even the D-Wheel, just water and filthy dirt. No Yusei, no Sherry. It was like they had never crashed at all."

Amidst their stunned silence, the lights came back on.

* * *

**Hospital**

**3:01 am**

**Senator Hideo's POV**

It was hard to tell which lights went out first: those in my daughter's eyes or the ones buzzing above my head.

My little girl told me horrible things tonight, terrible, beautiful, wonderful things. The first thing out of her mouth when I caught her, bleeding, bruised, dying, on our porch had opened this doorway, and it remained wide open, allowing all sorts of dreadful things inside.

Like: if I had been a better father, if I hadn't called her a monster, if I hadn't been afraid of my own child, if I had gone after her, then none of this would have happened. Like: if I hadn't gone after Yusei, if I hadn't trusted him blindly with her, if I never let her go with Divine, if I forbid her from participating in this tournament, then she wouldn't be dead.

Dead, dead, dead... my little girl is dead!

No matter how many times that terrible word echoed around my head, no matter how many times I looked at her beautiful white face, no matter how many times her lips told me wonderful things, I couldn't believe it. Not like this, not now, not so suddenly!

_I looooooove Fudo Yusei, Papa. I killed him tonight. We're soul mates. We're going to die together... _

This... this all had to be some kind of horrible nightmare. I've had them before—I had them every night after my beautiful daughter ran to that Arcadia Movement. This... this was just one of them. It had to be.

_Don't cry Mama, its okay. I'm finally happy. Because of him, I'll never be alone. We're going to Hell together. _

All of the doctors helping me sit down, offering consoling words, wondering if I wanted a priest—fake. My wife, sobbing uncontrollably against her bed, the nurses rubbing her back with lightly concerned faces—lies. My daughter's body, smiling, white, eyes open, unseeing, unfeeling, still, and poisoned—a trick.

_Yusei was my first everything... except I'm going to die a virgin, isn't that weird Papa? Stupid heart of Gold Yusei... wouldn't love you any other way though..._

All those words she had said lovingly about Yusei, all those pains she had described about our family, all those sweet, loving hugs and tears she shed, all the forgiveness and love she had for us—too soon.

_Not this, God, please, anything but this._

Anything but those first words...

_I failed him, I failed you, and I failed the world Papa. I love you, so I must tell you the truth before I die._

Failed me?! Failed him?! Failed the world?!

Impossible Aki!! Impossible, my angel!! If anything, we failed you, we all did! Yusei for not protecting you, me for turning my back on you, the world for hating you without understanding! The blame was ours, never yours! Never!

And that strange descent into insanity and babble... this was all faked! It had to be!

_I sacrificed myself for him, so don't be mad at him. He tried his best to save me, to save us all. I love you Papa. I love you Mama. _

The dream of my wife reached out and took my hand, stroking it with her thumb, tears swelling her cheeks and eyes like a frog. Somehow, she never looked more beautiful.

"How will we live without her?" she whispered, choking on her words, stroking the mark of The Black Rose Dragon on our daughter's limp arm. The thick black lines she didn't touch—those were too soon, too fresh, lies. "What do we do now?"

I shook my head. I didn't know—didn't have to know, this wasn't real. What other explanation was there for Duels and Psychics and Demons and Dragons and Hell and Heaven and all the rest of the junk that had spouted from my daughter's mouth?

_He helped me with my powers, now I can control them. He did what Divine couldn't—because _Yusei_ is _divine_ where _Divine_ is just _evil_. _

"Aki!" she sobbed once more, waving the doctors away as they moved the sheet over her face. "No! Not my baby! Not my Aki! No!"

Someone said something—one of the lying doctors. They were too far away to hear.

_Yusei's my angel, Papa. He's made me see how wonderful you and Mama are. I'm sorry for all the suffering I've caused you..._

How else could my baby have loved another enough to die for him—how else could he follow in her footsteps without an injury of his own—how else could a strange card come to be in her hands—how else could her Dragon Mark lead her to death—how else could she be poisoned with something modern medicine can't cure—how else could she hallucinate that Yusei was beside her, smiling—how else could she look out the window into the black night and exclaim: _"I see stars, Mama and Papa, so many beautiful stars!"_

How could she possibly say, using her last words meant for love and goodbyes, how could she possibly say, _"Because of Yusei and I, we won't be apart very long. We'll see you all soon."_

_"We'll all be dead."_

All. Be. Dead.

Then she looked up, _"I'm in... Hell..."_ laughed, _"Our wish is true Yusei..." _and said no more.

No more.

I stood.

The fake doctors were moving the stretcher now. Something about a morgue...

They said that Officers Mikage and Ushio called. They said that a young man named Crow called. They said that Jack Atlas called. They said that two youngsters named Rua and Ruca called. They said that a young man named Bruno called. They said that a young woman named Carley called. They said that someone named Sherry called.

All of Aki's wonderful friends.

I wonder, would they chuckle at me if I told them about this dream? Just an old father's fears playing with him at night?

_Papa, we won't go very far. We'll watch everyone. We'll save everyone..._

We were in the hallways now, and everything even moved like a dream, slow, serene, the patients turning to look at the white sheet as it passed, faces sad for the daughter they didn't know. A young man stood (another of her friends, no doubt) and touched my arm, offering condolences, touching the cross that dangled around his scarred neck, spoke of a lost friend with deep, brown Spanish eyes.

I wouldn't remember him later. I wouldn't remember much of anything.

_Papa, we're going to be angels together. _

We'd all be dead.

* * *

**... D:**

**Thanks for reading!**


	5. Disturbed: Part 1

AxJfan coming to you from her new college dorm room!

Please note that** THERE ARE NO ORIGINAL CHARACTERS** in this story and it is a CROSS-OVER FIC.

That's all!

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! 5ds nor do I own the Mortal Instruments. Owning either would make me immortal.

**

* * *

Chapter 4**

**Disturbed**

**Part 1**

**First Person POV**

As the first rays of dawn reached past the horizon, I swung myself off his roof, padding silently across the shingles. The Signers had yet to return, and for this I did not blame them. Really, without Yusei, where was their home?

Pausing at the gutters, I stared down into the cobbled streets, the shimmering water fountain, the dark teashop across the street, and the clock store of their old landlord. All was still in the night, shackled with an absence of light, moored by the heartless gaze of the fading moon and approaching sun.

"Yusei, have you thought about joining my team?" I asked the dusk twilight, gripping the card in my hand tightly, trying not to stare into its lying face. Shaking my head, I leapt across the distance between their roof and the next, consciously aware of my footsteps.

If what Yusei said were true, Yliaster would not be far behind. They would come to the Signers, and I would be there, waiting with Mizoguchi, waiting to complete our vengeance. My gaze betrayed me, wandering to the silver card shining in the weak light.

"I've received your will, Yusei," I whispered, sliding down the gutter three homes down and uncovering the tarp to my silent D-Wheel. The seat was cool, anticipating my presence. Sliding my helmet over my long hair, I hid both my gender and face from the world, knowing to reveal either too soon would mean an end to that. "I've received it and will carry it on."

From within my breast pocket, I withdrew the other card, the card that my parents had lost their lives because of. My eyes strayed between the two, one silver, one dark, and wondered what exactly mandated that these cards were valuable enough to murder for. My breath came out unsteady, so I started my engine, looking up towards the rising sun.

"I know my teammates Yusei," I continued, placing his card in my extra deck without hesitation, uncaring about what the action meant. Z-Zone found its way back into my pocket, and I placed a hand over the other, lighter card, vowing, "I understand what you did. I understand."

He didn't answer, although he had promised he would find a way to. Unable to help myself, I removed his card once more, stared into the golden eyes of his fierce dragon, itched to summon it. But not yet. Now was too soon to reveal the truth. "Yliaster will not get your card Yusei. I won't let them! I will have our revenge—the world's revenge!"

_"Do not travel down that path alone Sherry, for what will you do when that path ends? Fight not for revenge, but for justice: Fight to save, not to kill." _

I felt my features twist into a frown, fighting against the words he had imparted me with, his hand warm and wet within mine, his eyes focused and distant, blue and dark.

_"Aki and I have lost our lives to that road, I won't let you follow."_

Izayoi, the girl I had watched blossom into a D-Wheeler, the girl with so much damn potential—dead. I shook my head once more, speaking to the night in a vain attempt to pull myself together, "Who will love you now Yusei?"

Someone laughed, and I whirled around, duel disk deployed and tazer ready, ignoring the burning in my retinas and blurred vision. A crow stared down at me from the gutters I had just scaled, cawed its strange laughter once more, and then flew off into the night. The card shook in my fists, so I looked away, drawn by the red and blue lights of approaching trouble.

_Damn, I have to get out of here for now. _

Stardust Dragon stared up at me, sad, wounded, and livid at the world that had caused the separation with his Signer.

_"Stardust is yours now. If you need me, summon him and I will follow. And Sherry?"_

I closed my eyes, my long lashes tickling the skin against my cheek, allowing me to pretend that the feeling wasn't a tear.

_"I never said no."

* * *

_

**Unknown**

"So he went to the girl after all?"

_"Hee-hee-hee! _What does he think a human can do against us?"

"It doesn't matter. My Diablo will crush her like an insect and I will claim Stardust."

"You act too hastily Placido. Sending out Ghost will cause more harm than good in these conditions. His friends still believe—they need to doubt him, spit on his bonds. That will make him weak."

"But the girl—!"

"As Luciano said, she is only a human. There is nothing she can do."

"That's booooring! What are we waiting around for?"

"Patience, I have decoded the encryptions on some important files and delivered them to our puppets, soon there will be no place for the boy to hide."

"_Hee-hee-hee!_ Are we going to call for the death penalty José?"

"We won't."

"Then what is the purpose of your foolish plots?"

"Just because we don't doesn't mean the humans will."

A pause.

Laughter, "So you're making his loved ones make the call? You are just like us after all!"

"It was ordered that one would die a day. This will only speed up the process—he's shown us what doubting bonds does to the servants of the Crimson Dragon. Soon we will have our Circuit completed and the power of the Signers in our hands."

"God will be at our mercy, as will Fudo Yusei."

"How do we know he's alive anyway?"

"Valentine always knows."

* * *

**Evidence Review**

**Crow's POV**

_... why I would never reach the cold ocean waters that would bring me relief._

_It was because he had died like Pearson: suddenly, young, and without any proper explanation._

_And for the life of me, I couldn't figure out why he wanted it that way..._

"Wake up!"

Something pointy and heavy attacked me, slapping me awake from the already fitful slumber. I blinked. Rubbed my eyes. Blinked some more. Carley stood in front of me, grinning tiredly at the pile of pictures, leather book, and mask she had just lopped onto my lap. I stared at her some more, trying with all my wit to guess why she was in our garage this early. Did Jack finally grow and pair and stop being Mr. Prissy last night...?

Then I remembered.

"I fell asleep?" I shouted, leaping up from my chair, the pile of crap tumbling to a heap on the floor. Ignoring Carley's surprised exclamation, I wheeled around the room, taking in the wary twins, Ruca covered in sweat, Rua making disgusted faces at her, Jack nowhere to be seen, Ushio and Mikage talking by the door, Bruno typing away at the computer like Yusei should have been doing... and Aki... Aki...

Somehow, I made my way back into my chair and crashed down, holding my head in my hands. Seizing the opportunity with swiftness that would make Jack envious, Carley once again dumped her load onto my lap, keeping her hands firmly on top.

"Crow."

The seriousness in her voice made me look up into her funny glasses though I wanted nothing more than to stare at the tiles for the rest of my life. _Aki was dead! Dead!_

The girl I had shared coffee with not even twelve hours ago, the girl who had smiled at me when we spoke about the Riding Duel, the girl who had just pulled her life together, who was finally shedding her tears... the girl I cared about... one of my treasured people...

"What?" I snapped, eyes narrowing before I could stop them. She held my gaze for a moment more before replying, moving her hands onto my shoulders as if to cushion her words.

"You snore."

And then she walked away, scooping more paper off the tables, leaving me staring after her, mouth agape. Aki was dead and Yusei was missing and the only thing she could think to say was _I snore?_

"And will you try to pick the lock on that book? Security's given up for now and I remembered you used to be a thief, so I figured if anyone could open it it'd be you," she continued, thickly oblivious to my hard gaze on the back of her head. "Someone wrote something on it, it's being analyzed by the Security team, but it's definitely not in Yusei's handwriting—or Japanese for the matter."

"Book? Whaaat?" Rua groaned, snaking over to my side impatiently. He lifted the leather-bound white beauty and eyed it, suspecting it to jump out and attack him or something. A few pictures floated off its cover, and I snatched them out of the air on reflex, earning an impressed look and a jump.

But when I saw what was on them, I let them drop to the floor with the bomb they had detonated, turned to the watching reporter and exploded. My words had always been my first form of offense, they were weapons in the right hands, and now they were white-hot shrapnel searing straight through everyone. "What the hell happened when I was asleep Carley? Where's Jack? What're all those—those—?"

Before she could form an answer, I tore through the rest of the evidence on my lap, seeing the same images transposed over our walls, windows, ceiling, floors... Fears and pain tore through me like flames, and smoke reared up in my eyes, threatening to make them leak.

"Uh, Jack's storming around here somewhere," she replied. "He didn't take that well either."

Aftershock blew the photographs into the morning air as I tossed the metal chair against the wall, and my teeth set behind my lips without my permission. "OF COURSE HE DIDN'T TAKE IT WELL! ARE YOU AN IDIOT? SOME BASTARD DESTROYED OUR GARAGE—THE GUY WHO KILLED AKI! THERE ARE DEATH THREATS ON THE WALLS! OF COURSE I'M NOT TAKING IT WELL!"

The poisonous words floated between us, and her glasses caught some of the photos in their reflection, throwing all of the destruction back at me in her gray-blue eyes. As if summoned by an attack on his freakin' love interest, Jack came storming into the room, his royal eyes thundering with a counterattack. He saw my arms raised and pointed upwards, the snarl in my face, Carley shrinking away in surprise, the twins' wide eyes, and stomped towards me, grabbing the collar of my shirt. He opened his mouth to scream back at me, protect this ridiculous girl, but suddenly recognition flowed into his eyes, flooding out the fire. He set me down without a word and turned towards Carley, the scowl on his face deepening.

"A true King knows when to pick a fight," he hissed out, storming towards the window to watch the sun make its trek upwards past the horizon. "It would be a waste of time to fight you now."

Then bitterly and softly as if he didn't want us to hear, he whispered, "Where's the _glory _in this, Yusei."

His abrupt change in mood diffused most of my own fury, and I found that although I couldn't force myself to sit back down, it was much easier to breath. For once, Jack was right. Fighting each other would do nothing to save Yusei or help find Aki's murderer. I eased my fist back into a hand and opened it towards Rua, who looked up at me with fear dancing behind his eyes.

I forced a rather tortured smile. "Let's see the book—Crow the Bullet will get it open no problem!"

He frowned again but passed the book on, turning back towards his sister. They took each other's hands and resumed watching silently, obviously comforting each other with the loss of their 'big sister.' Silent tears streamed down Ruca's face as she held his hand, and her gaze was particularly painful to behold, her eyes glittering like gold. She had dreamed about them as I had—it was obvious. We all probably had.

I sighed as I felt the beaten-up leather volume, the texture worn and cool to the touch. Slight bumps from foreign words glided below my fingertips, and a quick glance at them yielded nothing. That was unsurprising really, seeing as I was the worst with language here. Half of what I read was just filled in from what I imagined, my education gained from a group of kids teaching me to duel.

Like Jack and Yusei.

A sigh burst past my lips and I was exhausted again. I found my way back down to my seat and fiddled with the padlock absently, trying to figure out its make. The thing looked ancient but strong, like the entire book, and I doubted that if I took a knife to it the thing would crack. My lips pursed.

"Do you have a bobby pin Carley?" I asked, wishing I wasn't wearing my Riding Suit so I would have all my thieving tools at the ready. She started violently and dug into her mess of dark hair, procuring said object with a clumsy jerk.

"Yeah! Here you go!" Deftly, I snatched it from her and hesitated at the keyhole, eyes straying to the spiraling language dancing across the cover once more. The fact that I couldn't read it made it more beautiful—but the kind of beauty Sherry had, the kind that would lure you in and snatch you up just to toss you in the ocean. "So what's up with this language?"

The shifting of her jacket told me she shrugged, but she bantered on regardless, "Well, Ushio said that the Shadowhunter sometimes left those symbols around places where he'd killed."

There was an awkward pause, and Bruno whispered, "They found this in Yusei's room?"

"He kept it under a false bottom in his desk drawer," Mikage offered, shuffling over uncomfortably. Her hands danced together sadly and she played with the hem of her jacket. "There were also a few of the knives Yusei had when he murdered our officer last night and a stack of letters. No key though."

_"Yusei didn't murder anyone!"_

_Letters?_ I wondered, but something else was quick to catch my eye, a glimmer in the sunlight. Frowning, I peered closer to the lock, screwing up my eyes in concentration. The light played across the metal surface, dipping in and out of a small matrix of grooves...

"Why couldn't you guys get this open?" I wondered, willing myself to see whatever was written. It was there, just past my eyes, on the tip of my tongue, whispering to me like the parts of Yusei I couldn't exactly understand...

"We can't risk damaging it, so we can't saw it open," Ushio grunted, and started when I jabbed the lock experimentally. With a scream I retreated, dropping the pin to the ground as it seared with heat. It smoked against the tile, hissing and burning like a viper, its tip bright orange like flames.

"What the...?" I mumbled.

Mikage chose to add, "And whatever we tried to pick it with melted."

We were silent for a moment more. I watched the smoke coil upwards towards the journal, noted how it stayed pristine and white even against the grit and pursed my lips, even more convinced that whatever was written on the lock was the true key to this thing. "So it can't be picked and there's no actual key. This language is unreadable—"

"Our analysts are working on that," Mikage inserted just as Jack snapped, "Whoever broke into our garage planted the damn thing!"

Everyone else turned towards him as I tilted the leather again, highlighting the tiny scribble to the best of my ability. Somehow the light made only the edges glow, the rest of it bathed fast in cool darkness, eternal and endless, taunting me, enticing me. I _knew_ this; there was just something about it...

"That's why there's no key—the real Shadowhunter must be Ghost and planted it in Yusei's room!"

"Then why weren't there any other prints on the drawer other than Yusei's?"

The noises of Ushio and Jack bickering between each other faded into the background along with any suspicions I had myself, leaving only me and something that Yusei had held in his hands countless times, had looked at or written in, had hid away, just me and that familiar little spiral...

A dissatisfied noise escaped Yusei's lips as he stared down the testing station, the pen in his hand making absent spirals on his notepad. I looked up from Blackbird, nearly ready to leave for the delivery service. Our eyes met over the reflection of the machine and I grinned at him, dropping my helmet to circle around and peer over his shoulder. "What's wrong?"

Although we both knew I wouldn't understand most of what he said, Yusei started to explain the problem anyway. Sometimes, even he needed to vent to see things more clearly. Sometimes disappointment was visible even in his unreadable eyes, and sometimes it just flowed off the surface and into the air around him, settling across the garage like a thick disease.

"Some of these gears aren't fitting together properly," he began, and I lost him soon after that. I settled for examining the conflicting theories and emotions raging across the spray in his eyes, enjoying the rare sight of Yusei's tidal emotions. All the while, his right hand traced the same little pattern above the schematics and design he had created for the new engine and caught in his eyes, a staff covered in vines. The movement caught my attention and I found that if I tilted my head to the side it looked like a winged spiral, reminding me of the Crimson Dragon.

Reversed in his irises, it honestly gave me the creeps. "... there must be something wrong with the old bonds between..."

"What's that?" I asked suddenly, pointing at the little design, feeling as if feathers were brushing against my skin. My mark itched, and as I reached down to scratch it he blinked down at his hand, mildly surprised at his own doodle. He opened his mouth to say something, decided against it, and replied, "Just something to help me—"

"Remember!" I blurted out suddenly. My eyes stung and blurred as I tore them away from the pattern, but I felt the truth of it ringing throughout me, the feeling of being doused in feathers returning tenfold. This time the itch in my mark was more pronounced, almost a burn. The others stared at me incomprehensively, Bruno suspiciously, and I grabbed the smoking bobby pin from the floor, ignoring the heat.

"That's the key! Remember!"The tip of the metal pin was bent and distorted into strange jagged little lines, the memory of a pattern engraved in its being. Eagerly, I jammed it into the lock, felt the difference as vividly as I felt the tingling approval flashing up my arm, a smile from Yusei, wherever he was.

Or was it a frown...?

"What the hell are you talking about?" Jack demanded. Nearly bursting with excitement, I looked up at them all, lapping up the question mark burned into all of their faces, nearly laughing at the outright surprise on Bruno's face, and turned the morphed metal.

Something clicked deep within me as I felt the lock turn, and I nearly shouted, "You didn't find a key because you have to make one! The metal melts inside the lock to the shape of the inner mechanism thing and then it becomes the key—it remembers the shape!"

My arm burned as the lock fell open, unlatching and flipping over by itself, revealing the same jagged pattern morphed into the bobby pin below it.

_Remember._

I saw Yusei shifting through piles of charred gears after an explosion, examining the survivors, bending an old hanger into a new circuit, piecing together parts whose shapes were so strange that they could fit nowhere else. I saw him bent over our duel disks with his screwdriver, fiddling with them to synch up with Team Satisfaction's shock cords. I saw him bowed over the interrogation table; his hands folded together, his eyes guarded and distant.

_"... go to them, for I cannot anymore."_

Hearing the excited gasps of the Security Officers from a distance, I rested the palm of my hand over the lines, exhaling sharply. Without a doubt I knew this was Yusei's and not something planted by Ghost, the feel of the leather, the simple complexity of the lock, the careful symbol scratched into its surface like a gentle warning... it practically screamed his name. But then what did that mean for him?

"These marks were supposed to be from the Shadowhunter," I said suddenly, interrupting my own round of applause. I looked up at them, feeling another storm brewing below me. "This isn't Yusei's handwriting. But I know this lock is something Yusei would make."

"So he befriended that guy somehow?" Ushio wondered, reaching for the book. On instinct I curled it closer to me, protecting Yusei's secrets even until the end. His big brows tried to meet at the bridge of his nose and his fingers beckoned for it.

I shook my head, a nasty frown gracing my face. The officers' brows creased and they stepped forward further, attempting to snatch the treasure from my grasp. I sprang to my feet, the mask perched on my knees clattering to the floor, and held the book between my two fists daringly, staring intensely into their angered eyes.

"No way. I got this thing opened—now you owe us."

Mikage let out an outraged noise and withdrew into herself, shooting her partner a desperate and blaming look, her nose held high. Ushio growled at took a step into my personal face, glaring down at me with anger that wasn't quite real. "That's our evidence, Crow. What do you want?"

Well, it was now or never. This was for Aki and for Yusei, even if what we were about to see may condemn them, even if their truth only proves my friends to be lies...

"We're looking at this together."

The officers exchanged their 'classified' look once more, and I felt the cool chill of anger brewing in my lungs. How could they just stand there and wonder if they could tell us—_the Signers!—_something about our friends, something that Aki was _dead_ because of, that Yusei was in danger from! How could they hesitate when every passing second Yusei was even closer to death and Aki to her grave! Wasn't it their job to save people?

Just as the words were slipping past my iced over lips, Ushio cleared his throat awkwardly and stepped away, running a large hand through his dark hair. My vendetta melted in the open air at the defeated sign and I felt a sad grin twitch at the corner of my lips. One small victory atop an eternity of mourning losses.

Aki... Aki... _Yusei..._

"Firstly," Mikage started, shooting her love rival a rather pointed look, "none of what you see today can be repeated. It's classified for the protection of peace in Neo Domino City. Very few people actually know about the existence of the Shadowhunter, and Security has worked hard so it remains that way."

With a little moan, Carley stuffed her journal and notepad onto the table and settled beside Jack, a pout on her face, muttering tiredly. Now that the glare of the sun was off her face, I could see the sadness in her eyes behind her chipper pose: the closeness to Jack. So even she was suffering. I guess this was just her way of dealing...

Looking around, I suddenly realized that we were all finding different ways to cope with the situation and my anger quelled. We were all suffering from this, especially the Security Officers and the reporter as it was their jobs to try and prove Yusei guilty.

"Yeah, yeah," I huffed, gripping the edges of the ancient book tightly, my vision returning to the mark and to the familiarity of Yusei. "Don't get your bra in a twist. We'll keep quiet."

Mikage shot me a look but stepped on Ushio's foot when he opened his mouth to retort. Begrudgingly, they both circled around my back and leaned over my shoulders, soon accompanied by everyone else in the room. Bruno was the only to hesitate, but soon enough he had abandoned his computer and joined us, sitting cross-legged on the floor to my left, eyes nervous.

"Open the damn book!" Jack snapped when I paused, staring at the winged staff once more. He reached one long arm across my lap and seized the cover for his own, and where our Riding Suits brushed the downy sensation vanished. Yet when he flipped open the front cover and we found ourselves staring at the same rune burned into the cover page, it returned with vengeance and a jolt of...

"Yusei!"

He jumped for the first time in a long time, returning his tools back to the box before him before turning around and facing his confronter. I smiled down at them from the top of the stairs, laughing to myself about Yusei's refusal to stay in bed for more than five minutes at a time. It was a wonder Martha didn't simply just give up and accept that no matter how sick Yusei got, he was going to declare he was fine and work on his prototype D-Wheel.

Although obviously caught in the act, his face held none of the guilt mine would have, and he even managed to give our foster mother one of his famous little smiles. "Good evening, Martha."

Something about his lips were humorous tonight, oddly out of place and nearly vampiric. Whatever it was must have been contagious, because I felt myself and Martha mimicking the sight almost instantly. Yusei must actually be feeling better than if he could smile like this just two months after Kiryu...

He rubbed his right hand distractedly, and Martha came to.

"Fudo Yusei!" she snapped, ditching the grin once she caught sight of it in the mirror behind her victim's head. She opened her mouth with her hands on her hips, the picture of a formidable mother, and then abruptly changed directions, "If you're well enough to be walking around then you're on kitchen duty tonight! Get the plates and silverware out!"

My mouth fell open as Yusei's eyebrows shot upwards, but with a quick glance at each other we evened out, and he gave our would-be mom an appreciative little smile before vanishing behind the heavy wood door, the limp he had suffered through this past week already gone. Martha's eyes were glued fast to him as he left, and they soon shifted towards me, the only other wayward son she had left after Jack had gone to haunt his theatre.

"He seems better," she commented, the question in her voice obvious and loud. From what she had told me, well, actually yelled at me on the porch, he had been... bad to say the least. Withering from the inside, weakening, swaying, occasionally hallucinating, passing out in the middle of conversations, or suppressing cries of pain, all the while refusing Dr. Schmitt's help. "He's paler than he was yesterday, but he seems to be almost... relieved. Not quite happy, but something must have changed."

I shrugged, trying hard not to recall how my brother's health had taken a turn for the worse shortly after losing Kiryu. Dr. Schmitt had deemed it to be stress after observing the retreating duelist from afar, otherwise completely baffled at how such a healthy boy could suddenly take a nose dive towards death in such a short amount of time. But hey, nothing to worry about, it was Yusei after all. He'd just get sick enough to make me worry and then pull through like nothing had ever changed.

... Maybe it really was just stress then? Not from Kiryu or Jack or even my own disappearing act before Pearson died... but from all the strain he puts on himself?

Before that thought could go anywhere else, Martha cleared her throat and it was forgotten in the heat of a mother's impatient gaze. _Geez,_ couldn't that woman let a guy think? "I know that when I'm around joy rains from the sky and all Martha, but it's not like I can make the blind see."

She shook her head, trying to hide her tiny smile. "Well your home coming seems to have done something to him. It's only been a week and suddenly he's getting back to himself again. There's something in those bonds of his after all. Now if only we could get him to laugh." Her eyes egged me on meaningfully and I let myself drop over the railing and land hard on my knees, reaching for the ceiling.

"We need a miracle! Must I do all the work around here?"

It was the wrong thing to say. Suddenly my ear was yelling into itself for being so stupid, and Martha's attached hand laughed in victory. "If that's what you think my little Blackbird, then why don't you join Yusei in the kitchen?"

"Ouch! Ouch!" I complained, grabbing at her strong fingers with my quick ones, attempting to spare the piercing any more pain. "Martha—cut it out! That—OUCH!"

In one fluid movement I wouldn't have thought her capable of, she flung me through the door ear-first, the wood easily giving way and slamming into the brick corridor, the resulting bang masking the very unmanly scream escaping my mouth. Or at least half of it. Landing in a crowded heap on the floor, I peeled myself off the old grain and sighed up at Yusei, blowing a loose strand of hair from my eyes.

The plate in his hands was raised as some kind of a shield and his eyes were alarmed rapidly deteriorating into amused as the seconds ticked on by. A smile cracked across his armor, full of fanged relief once more, and there was a shine in his eyes that hadn't been there since we'd painted our map black. At the moment where his mouth fell open to start laughing and I stemmed the flow of curses sliding down my spine because that crazy woman's plan to make him laugh had _worked_, I remembered.

I remembered how his expression had melted once more into shock, his pupils tiny pinpricks in rough blue waters. I remembered how his mouth had frozen, lips slightly parted, how his skin took on the cool chill of ice. I remembered how the plate slipped from his hands and shattered before my face, the clay slashing a deep cut where my next Security Marker would be.

And I remembered a sound escaping him with a choked out breath, words too quite and delicate to be heard, a silent plea that couldn't be received. And I remembered him falling. I remembered him dying, I remembered Martha screaming, I remembered just laying there, blood running down the criminal path on my cheek, predicting the shape I would take next.

And I remembered him waking up the next day, Kiryu's name exploding off his lips, the desperation in his eyes as he shot from bed and stumbled on unsteady legs. I remembered Dr. Schmitt and Martha gaining up on him, forcing him to recover. I remembered the way he looked at me when they asked what was wrong. I remembered dragging him to the Security Center, I remembered finding Jack along the way back, I remembered telling Jack what had happened while Yusei stared mutely out the window, confined to his bed, restless...

And staring down into the thick black line of Yusei's memory, I remembered what he had begged and repeated it back to him, "Forgive me."

I turned the page.

* * *

**Hospital Morgue**

**Senator Hideo's POV**

It was as if everything and everyone was suddenly submerged under the deepest trench in the ocean, sounds vanished, my lungs suffocated, every move I made was slow and useless. Visitors darted like fish between curtains of seaweed, their nametags sparkling like scales. And it was cold, so intensely cold, dark, and haunting, tons and gallons of water pressure crushing me no matter which way I struggled. Doctors lurked like sharks in the corners of my vision, waiting to pounce and prey on me, on them, on everything. All it took was a drop of spilled blood to set them off.

And I was bleeding.

Her name, her spirit, her laugh, her smile, her insanity, her eyes, her love, her cruelty, her beauty—it all poured from my wounds, dying the waters crimson, poisoning the schools, attracting the predators... Aki... my only daughter... Aki!

It was all I had left of her, of her auburn eyes that were sometimes brown, of her crooked smile that had just recently straightened out, of her long magenta hair that curled whenever it rained... I wouldn't let them take her away from me!

They advanced now, teeth rippling in their huge gaping, ugly, fake smiles. Nothing like hers, she'd never try and fool me. They tried to speak, tried to tell me everything would be alright, that they would fix things, but I knew better, I saw through them! Monsters! They should have saved her!

They should have...

Aki...

How could they lose her in this warped version of reality? How could a body simply vanish from under the white sheet? Didn't they see they were mistaken, didn't they see that Aki was never dead in the first place? Couldn't they see that I would never believe their lies?

It didn't matter that there were two missing bodies in that lying morgue tonight—that just meant that another family had saw through their lies! That proved this to be some kind of trap—another dangerous challenge against the Signers that my Aki would rise with her friends to defeat!

When my wife turned to me after hollering hysterics at these sharks I held her, I let her cry out her confusion on my shoulder, determined to play along so that we could be released and go back home to our daughter, who'd be waiting at the rose garden, hand in hand with Yusei as her hero once more, both alive and well and pure, heaven-bound, not rotting together in the depths of hell...

When a nurse came by asking if we'd seen the boy with deep brown Spanish eyes I asked why. When she said his friend was the one who had vanished along with my daughter's body I shook my head as if it was a shame. She called his name a few times, Raphael, and vanished around a corner.

I wouldn't let her trick me. Aki was alive. Her friend—Raphael—and his friend in the morgue must have helped her escape.

It didn't cross my mind that you'd have to be declared clinically dead to get into the morgue at the time. I didn't think that the dead would have to rise and walk to lift my daughter from her prison.

Later I would. Later the entire world would see.

But what did it matter? We'd all be dead.

* * *

So that's part 1 of were quite a few keys lines in this chapter, and a very important quality about Crow.

Can you find them?

Also, to reiterate, **THERE ARE NO OCs IN THIS FIC! NONE!**

Thanks for reading as always,

~AxJfan


	6. Disturbed: Part 2

Hey, look! An update!

Disclaimer: I don't own 5ds or The Mortal Instruments.

* * *

**Distorted: Part 2**

**Third Person POV**

She…

Sometimes she was certain that she was wrong. Sometimes she wished she was.

She couldn't understand how he could so calmly reach across her during their sunlit hours without meeting her eyes, how he could blow up his machines and hold a hand to an enemy, how he refused to laugh and joke, and how he simply stood and brooded above his work, paying her almost no mind at all. Sometimes she'd make a move, get angry, throw a glare, but it simply glanced off the marker on his cheek with no impact.

Sometimes she hit him. Sometimes she screamed. Sometimes she hated him. Sometimes she told him. But never him, never Yusei, because sometimes she was certain that she was wrong. But she had to find out. She couldn't stand circling around 'sometimes', watching the clock tick them away, or not being able to understand half of them. She couldn't stare at the back of the head of the man she claimed to love while imagining his arms as another's. She couldn't do that to Yusei unless he was doing it to himself.

She watched him work out a few kinks from her collisions on the training course, his brow sweaty under the powerful lights, ignoring and willing past the time that slipped through her closed fists like the ash of her enemies. Her eyes softened at the drive and concentration set in his tight muscles and came to a decision.

"I hate you."

Silence reigned dominant, the soft sounds of his fingers tapping against the machine fading away. For a moment he did nothing, content with examining the last lines of gears in his running program. Fear and anger licked up her chest at his nonchalance, and her hands fisted in the fabric of her skirt. Releasing a breath, he stood from where he had crouched and held out his hand, gazing at her steadily, the blue in his eyes hidden in the lowlight.

Her eyes widened in recognition. She stepped away, repeating her words, "I hate you so much."

Ridiculously, he shrugged and turned his back to her, the eyes of her stolen mask lingering against her skin in the starlight. The space where his hand had been moments before seemed drained, almost shackled without its presence to release her, the choice he had offered and she denied. Somehow, refusing this man felt horrendously wrong, although her heart begged her to stay away from him lest he end its beating.

She stared at the mask he had so casually lifted from her face without any more words to throw, and although the strain in his back showed his pain, his voice was cheerful and his answer truthful, "Good."

Without a further word he mounted the sill of her window, examining the glittering lights of the city catching against his silver scars like treasure. Like a returning phantom, he turned to her once more, taking in the surroundings of the Arcadia Movement with faint disgust—and for a moment she felt like she knew him, knew him like she had once known herself, as she thought she knew Divine, and as she wished she knew her family.

"Are you going to kill me?" she wondered. Sometimes, she thought he knew her too. Though hidden by the pilfered mask, she felt the intense chill of his gaze on her face, saw his mouth whisper deadly truths, the words sliding off his lips like a sigh.

"You're not dead yet, Black Rose."

Leaving her in confusion, he leaned backwards and past the windowpane, gliding down the sky like a solitary drop of rain, vanishing into the night as if she had simply imagined him. She ran to the window's edge with a scream that would drive Divine to her quarters, reaching downwards with her gloved hands more desperately than she had in years, feeling expressions slide across her vulnerable face, illuminated by the full light of the moon.

She caught the last moment of his descent, and was sure she heard laughter. The darkness claimed him.

_"DIVINE!"_

The Death God laughed mercilessly as her beloved vanished from view, leaving her powerless to do a thing, to save him or damn him or consol him. Its puppet simply smiled at the pain she caused, her world-famous face glowing with a different kind of beauty.

Screaming his name, her hand lunged out further and snatched the fabric of his blue jacket, dragging him away from the fight breaking out around them. The strange fire danced in his eyes, splitting the mask he wore with that devilish grin, and she pulled harder, wondering how she could ever understand him and if he could even manage the feat. Coming back to the Yusei she loved, he took her hand and led her away, slipping through the allies with practiced ease.

Miles later, they came to a panting stop, leaning against the dusty bricks for support. She slid to a halt against the grimy walls, surrounded by the sounds and lights of passing cars, unable to breath past the layers of clothing and plaster choking her face. Her fingers slid into familiar grooves of her mask and lifted it in a gentle caress, stealing the barrier from her flushed face.

She had used too much power too quickly today—that man with the mark had spurred her too quickly, had made her heart pound with fear and need far too great for her to conceal. Breathing hard and long, she settled into her niche, swearing to destroy him along with all other opposition, pretending that his bold advance had not stroked her heart and nailed itself in with the rest of her thorns.

She…

* * *

**Third Person POV**

**Security Corridor**

"Chief," Mikage leveled, snatching the phone from Ushio's hands after the man's face became flustered, a sure sign that shouts and trouble were about to be dealt. Sparing him a hard look, she continued, "Yes, this is Head of the Special Investigations Section, Mikage Sagiri. We've recently had a breakthrough with our evidence and are in the process of reviewing it…"

She trailed off, aware of the gaze of their illegal visitors in the other room, tensing as the reporter that never failed to annoy her reached for her pad of paper once more, only to have Crow stop her with a shake of his head. "Some information about the Arcadia Movement has been decoded? That's wonderful, but due to the severity of this case… What? He's where? When?"

Looking about ready to throw himself out of the nearest window in an attempt to starve off the anticipation gripping him, Rua emerged from the room and began bouncing up and down at her heels, blatantly eavesdropping without a care in the world. Ushio made to push him away but stopped with a sigh, realizing that at that it was pointless after everything they had already told the waiting group.

"I don't understand Sir," Mikage admitted politely, creasing her brow and closing her eyes, blowing the loose bangs from her face. "Yes Sir, Officer Ushio and I will be there shortly. Goodbye."

As soon as the phone was snapped shut Jack took the chance to leap down her throat, "You were supposed to change his mind! For Head of a unit, you hold no sense of power!"

Crow and Ushio had no reply, revealing that they agreed enough to avoid a chance at their favorite sport, pissing off Jack. She shook her head the display of hostility she received from the men, instead turning heel and striding down the hall, calling back, "Only the Directors hold power over the Chief, and they are the ones who decoded the files and want them reviewed immediately. The Chief claims they are related to the case, but refused to say anything over phone lines. We have no choice in the matter. Ushio."

He shook his head, but came forward as called, muttering darkly to himself. As his partner rounded a corner he glanced back at the disgruntled group, demanding, "Don't make any more trouble. No one needs to know you're here."

Trying his best to ignore the brooding trouble in the pit of his stomach, he chased after his superior officer, erasing the image of Crow's wild eyes, Bruno's fearful ones, Jack's murderous, and the resigned of the other's. Stay put. Don't cause trouble. _Yeah right._

He was talking to the wrong group.

The feeling intensified after what was seen on those tapes, along with the dread that had been hanging over his head for this entire affair, the realization of what he was going to have to do hitting him hard across the face at the shocked look in his partner's eyes. Wordlessly, they turned to each other and back to their Chief as he replayed the tapes, knowing without a doubt that if Yusei was not already dead, he would be soon, and it would be by their own hands.

Knowing that they couldn't show their faces back in that room filled with his friends.

* * *

**Beach Outcropping**

Tentatively, the small spotted kitten wove its way around his legs, seeming to forgive him for the events that had passed last night. When she gave a reproachful meow, he hefted her into his capable arms and stroked her between the perky ears, hardly registering the action at all.

_Yusei… Why didn't the officers come back?_

Waves crashed at his feet, soaking the burning sand with urgency of the early afternoon tide, drawing a sigh from the man once more. How could two people just so suddenly disappear in these waters? How was it possible that there was no trace of them afterwards? Shifting the weight of the feline cuddling up to his chest, he examined his newly free hand with a powerful glare, observing the smooth skin as if willing it to burn.

He had no calluses, no tiny scars, no markings in particular to distinguish what he used to be or even as the mechanic he claimed to be, his palms were nothing like Yusei's, whose were rough and rigid from spending a life tinkering with machines and blueprints. They had nothing to be identified with, no prints that matched the system, no marks on the lifeline to suggest they would be cut short or to tell where it began.

He only had a name, a name that even then had only been partially true, a name and a mission to go by, a mission whose leader had no face to distinguish, a leader with only a voice and no name. And with Yusei missing, he had failed that as well.

Suddenly dropping the cat, Bruno made his way to the sea until the water climbed up to his knees, staring at the patch of sunlight off in the distance defiantly, uncaring if anyone saw him drop the naïve mask he wore. Eyes cold, he frowned at the infinite horizon where his creator lived in the world of speed, glared at the person that had only given him so much hope just to watch him fail.

Echoing his earlier words, he could still only manage, "Why?"

He did not expect an answer, and when it came, he was surprised enough to fall backwards into the surf, "Everyone deserves to know the truth about themselves."

Shooting upwards as if just realizing how frigid the water was, he plastered a flustered grin across his face and a blush, stuttering out the person's name as a distraction, "S-Sherry!"

Perched on the rocky cliffs surrounding the secluded area where he had been found after losing control of his D-Wheel against Placido, Sherry LeBlanc stared down at him thoughtfully, silver card flashing in her hands as she took the last leap and landed squarely in the sand, never losing stride. "That's what you said back then."

Her boots sank deep into the mud as she made her way out to him, stopping half a dueling distance away from him and crossing her arms, keeping the card held protectively away from damage. He glanced towards it uneasily, recognizing that it was not Z-Zone, which he had hacked into the super computer to analyze, but screamed familiarity regardless. "Is it still true?"

"Huh?" he burst, sending his arms out around him as if dramatizing the situation. Her eyes narrowed as he continued, "Where's Yusei?"—and became wide orbs as he asked—"Did you save him?"

The scowl on her face hid the truth from him, and he felt a chill of fear grip him at the uncertainty in her eyes. He took a step forward, eyes wide, ignoring the tensing in her shoulders, "Is he alright? I put my faith in you by letting you take him! Sherry—please answer me! Is Yusei ok?"

Her gaze was steady and painful, "No."

The breath left him once more and he tumbled back into the ocean's arms, willing her to take him to where his friend had fallen. Both hands found the sides of his head, the throbbing a quick warning of the agony about to engulf him. With a splash, Sherry was before him, jerking his chin upwards to stare into the chill of her eyes, mouth impassive and unyielding.

"Answer me," she commanded, the hand holding the card high and out of sight. For a dreadful moment he forgot what she had asked in the tidal riptide that had griped his soul, yet when he remembered, he was unsure if he had the right answer.

Needing and willing to give anything she wanted for more information on his charge and one true friend, he spluttered, "Of course! Everyone deserves to know the truth about themselves!"

Her eyes glared him down, causing intimidated sweat to drip down his temples, something that even Placido couldn't manage. This woman was an enigma in her own right, the way the dark green in her eyes covered the black thoughts flashing behind them, the way she could shift from aloof to rabid in moments without hesitation or reason between.

Finally satisfied with whatever his eyes held for her, she let his shirt slip through her fingers and him fall back into the surf with a splash. Guarded, she continued, "Will you back that in spite of what I may show to you today?"

"For Yusei," he agreed immediately, scrambling to his feet and regaining determination under his uncertain mask. His fist trembled in his side, something anyone would mistake for cold but Sherry saw for fear. "I'll help you for him."

She nodded, "Then here's my truth." The familiar card made its appearance from the inner pocket of her riding suit. He raised his eyebrows to show he remembered the card well, and what had transpired in their brief visit to his creator's lair.

Her gaze was unwavering, "Then here's the truth about him, Bruno."

The card flashed silver as she held it out before him, and he truly felt the cold seeping into his body for the first time. "That's…"

"Now," she cut across, giving his mind no chance to take in the epiphany that she had given him, giving his knees no time to regain strength, "What's your truth, Super-Mechanic?"

Long legs took a step forward, pressing the bright card between his eyes menacingly, "What's the truth behind the Accel Synchro?"

* * *

**City Streets**

Sharp gray eyes swept the streets with precision and intensity, hesitating on few faces, searching for the striking features that had haunted the pages of his dear friend. Having sought forgiveness rather than permission, as was the code of every good thief, the book had fallen open in his lap and revealed three smaller journals, each telling a story of their owner without the use of words.

Feathers stroked the back of his neck, gentle as the touch of a lover. Rather than whirl around in an over-puffed, dramatic, and ridiculous display like a certain King he knew, he glanced further ahead, catching his reflection in a shop window. Not a soul stood behind him, so he jammed his fists deep into the pockets of his jacket, finding comfort by the presence of his deck.

_Rough and brittle beneath his fingertips, the paper crinkled in idle protest to its disturbed slumber, the hinges moaning with age. A handsome face stared up at him, his eyes the pale blue of water, reflecting golden sunlight as it rose against the harbor behind him. Yusei's eyes, caught in a different world, the eyes of his friend if he lived in the day rather than the night._

Focusing past the draping arms and gentle hands on his shoulders, he allowed his eyes to glaze over the crowd of people like he often did with Bruno's morning crosswords, blurring the background and looking only for what mattered: brown Spanish eyes, all-green irises, beautiful women, terrible men, and Sherry's shine of blonde hair.

_Golden curls tossed around the man's face, ending at the tips of his hard smirk, his soft lips parted to reveal the gleam of his teeth. Feathers sprouted around his shoulders like wings, and his feet stood strongly atop the choppy waters below him, unyielding. In his reflection, a boy without wings hid his eyes behind his bangs, blood staining his hands and tears racing down his cheeks. _

The wind grazed across his forearms like a nail, and he didn't have to look down to feel the sudden warmth of blood on himself. Tense, his eyes searched reflection after reflection, seeking solace in the face of his attacker that didn't exist, that had melted out of the air as soon as he had put down that book with those dark black runes running across its pages. He caught sight of the headlines as they raced across the strips of store windows, barely able to suppress harshening his glare.

_"Death follows you…"_ she whispered once again, voice alluring and low.

_Flowery symbols decorated the bottom of the sketch and continued onto the next, and the page after, and even still after that. Faces and places filled the book with glory and grime, showing a girl with a shock of curly red hair and narrow eyes, a strange man with cat-like features done entirely in glitter, a boy with dark Spanish eyes and a cross burned into his chest, staring upwards at a crouched angel under lamplight, a painfully beautiful girl with a coiled whip like a snake, a dark boy with a frown, his hand clasping a cloud of glitter tightly, and towards the end, a baby girl with eyes so blue they were nearly black. _

Pretending to listen to the sounds of a car backfiring, he lost himself further in the throngs of people; so taut he had to physically prevent his hands from lifting passerby's belongings in nervous habit. They jostled and jabbered around him regardless, some holding Momentum Screens, scanning anxiously over the developing story, painting their own crimson images of lives they knew nothing about.

_There were so many sketches of the babe and the man with Yusei's eyes, and so few of the curled red-haired girl, he quickly realized that this was the diary of that woman, and that the man was the father of her child. Her name was written on the back cover, quickly translated from English to Japanese: Clarissa Lightwood. Jace Lightwood followed hers, and finally, Isabelle Lightwood ended it. _

"Leave it up to Security to lose a body."

"Fudo must've murdered the Witch! Good riddance!"

_Strangely enough, it was the name that ended the first sketchbook that started the second, and the first image fixed in it was of a dark-haired boy with glasses and long bangs, a thick black symbol drawn eloquently across his forehead. Turning back into the first, they found several images of him there as well, the same age, but less grim. It was here that the spiraling language started again, and his name was lost in the mysteries of that world._

"If you ask me, they must've killed each other. That Satellite reject messing with the Black Rose Witch can only spell disaster, it's a blessing that they're dead!"

"That poor Security Officer, at least he didn't have a family to morn him…"

"Death penalty? He deserves nothing less…"

"This is all some ploy for media attention! They're just trying to get sponsors for the Grand Prix!"

_Every time he ran a finger over those thick, black lines, he shivered under the pressure of downy, his thoughts filled with memories and glimpses of things he had never seen before. _

Biting his tongue long and hard, he continued his trek through the poisonous traffic, repeating his silence to protect what little face value his friends had left. He had to find those people in the journal, he had to track down Sherry, and he had to—

_It took a while for them to stumble across a self-portrait, and by this time Isabelle had mastered her hand at art and shown them many beautiful places, her favorite seeming to be a lake with a city no one could identify in the backdrop, a city she constantly drew on fire. With a shock, he remembered dropping the book to the floor, so that the young eyes of Yusei's mother stared up at him kindly from afar, her hair done up the same way it had been in the shattered picture frame he had unearthed nearly a year ago._

The crosswalk announced proudly that it was time to move his ass, so he hauled himself over the curb and into the street among the gabbing crowd who still remained thickly oblivious to his presence. Seeming to be stuck only on the headlines, they refused to go deeper into the article, which perhaps was a good thing after all, seeing what news had come to light…

_While everyone stared at him in confusion, he seized the book and flipped through it with urgency, memorizing the aging face of Yusei's mother Isabelle, seeking out her friends and contacts, stopping abruptly when a face so similar to his friend's peered up at him that his heart stopped. _

_"That's—!" Ushio exclaimed, mouth falling open. _

_"Yusei's father," Crow finished in a breath, the will to continue leaving his eager hands. Jack snatched it when he hesitated, yanking the pages with enough force that they could tear. The protesting noise that rose in his throat took a dive back into his heart at the sight of the next pages, how the scenery shifted from English cities to Japanese landscapes, sketches of the Yusei Particle Project, the Goodwin brothers, two sets of hands over a swollen stomach, and finally, a little baby boy with bright blue eyes and dark tufts of hair, smiling and brimming with innocence. _

_He quickly dominated the rest of the entries, tugging at his father's long bangs, laughing happily in an awkward Rudger's arms, squeezing Rex's finger, covered head-to-toe in his mother's paints, until the images abruptly stopped, ending with a familiar handwriting and phrase, so simple that it shocked them to the core…_

"There is no satisfaction in an ending like this," Crow muttered to himself, picturing the silver-haired culprit who had spoken those words so softly before he had died in Yusei's arms. Shaking his head, he reached down into the bag slung around his shoulder and touched the smooth leather of the sketchbook, knowing that Ushio and Mikage would murder him for taking it.

He chuckled suddenly, "But can they really? That means they'd have to admit to showing civilians—allies of a suspect—evidence."

No one paid him mind as he turned down the side-street he had taken nearly every day before Pearson's memory had found rest, noting with a tortured smile the familiar sights of the ocean as the buildings gave way to trees and tombstones. Shrugging off the stinging words of the citizens, he came to a halt before his long-since dead friend's grave, reaching into the bag once more and pulling out a fresh bouquet.

"It's been awhile, eh Pearson?" he muttered, toeing the grass of the grave lightly as if dancing around the subject. "Yusei was with me the last time. I wonder if you've seen him?"

The notion was playing over and over in his head, perhaps because of the news of Aki's death, or the fact that her body was no longer resting in the hospital morgue, as it should have. Suspiciously, he eyed the tombstone and continued, "But your body isn't here either is it?"

Pearson had indeed been cremated before death, and the idea of an empty grave was suddenly more upsetting than Crow could have ever imagined. Biting his tongue, he withdrew the sketchbook once more, letting the cover shine brightly against the sunlight. Feathering weight added to the book in his hands, and he sensed the palms that had touched him brushing against the cover, willing him to unleash its secrets once more.

"Yusei… Aki… what were you all involved in?" he muttered, giving up and plopping down on the grass, leaning his back against Pearson's proud name. The journal fell open in his lap, easily splitting on the phrase written in Yusei's precise handwriting, the only splurge of clear Japanese in the entire novel.

This is where they had stopped, where Ushio's phone had rung with a call from his Chief with some 'Big News' that had the officers missing for the longest hour that he had ever sat through. Finally, he could take no more and followed Bruno's example, the amnesia case having left for a breath of fresh air and never come back. Busy editing whatever Carley was cooking up, Jack had not noticed as he slipped the sketchbook into his delivery bag and Ruca had said nothing.

He was the first to see what was beyond, to see what Yusei had thought of the world around him, how he had seen it, interpreted it, and reflected on it. Would it be as grim as the first? Would it be full of color as his mother's?

Black coloring his mood when he realized it was just another thing he didn't understand about his friend and now never could, he turned the page. Dread gave way to ridiculous, bubbling laughter as he saw the first sketch, his form doubling over at the sheer pressure that he had placed on himself. Innocently, an in-depth plot of their shocking duel-disks back from Team Satisfaction days stared up at him.

"As if I was really expecting anything else," he cackled, shaking his head with mad reassurance. "What else would fill up a journal of Yusei's?"

Suddenly feeling braver, he flipped through pages filled with notes about physics and formulas for an early D-Wheel, little doodles about designs for the machines, the occasional dueling strategy he was trying to form at the time, familiarity a comfort he had much needed. Eventually, the shock-disks faded into an actual journal filled with shorts shots of what had happened that day, teams they were going up against, plots to infiltrate those who liked to cheat…

Then the marks started.

"Hey, that's…" Crow muttered, tracing the winged staffs that littered the page with only one word of Japanese embellished there. "Remember? So it that _is_ what this thing means."

He paused in brief consideration, sparing his itching birthmark a curious glance, wondering if the knowledge had been passed from Yusei or the great Crimson Dragon itself. Biting the inside of his cheek and shaking his head, he quickly decided that it didn't matter in the grand scheme of things, and he had much more pressing matters to attend to than wonder how a half-illiterate thief like himself with a habit of making up words from what he guessed could read an unidentifiable symbol from a mystery language.

"Geez, as if I've ever given a damn about books in the first place," he muttered to himself with a half-formed grin, running his fingers along the spiral-bound pad of white paper.

The next page was the first illustration in the book. Located halfway through, it was too precise to be an actual work of art. Kiryu peered up at him, drawn with painstaking detail that sucked the life out of the piece, the page beside him filled with scribbles of that foreign language once more, this time in Yusei's writing, as he were dissecting another piece of machinery and figuring out how it worked.

The _Shadowhunter's _words.

Bile threatened to rise in his throat when he saw, the fact that Yusei did indeed know the language that a killer left behind hitting him as hard as the headlines had, as low as Aki's missing body had, and as merciless as the 'shoot to kill' order had been placed over Yusei's head. Shoulders shaking, Crow lowered his head so that his brow brushed against the rough pages, willing the matrix like embellishments to vanish in the darkness that had claimed his friends.

"But Yusei couldn't kill anyone," he whispered to himself, staring down at the profile, the words low and unconvincing under the light of the sun. Jerking his head towards the waves in the distance, he overlooked his dreams where the dark-haired teen's name decorated Pearson's grave. "Yusei wouldn't…"

His eyes widened in sudden realization, "But _Kiryu_…"

Seized with the wild notion, he tore through all the memories from nearly three years ago that he had long since shoved to the back of his mind. Yusei and Kiryu vanishing in the night, the strange fights he and Jack would stumble upon, the immediate closeness between the two, Yusei opening up almost instantly, the look of absolute loathing in his blue eyes the first month in Team Satisfaction…

It was a stretch… but he knew that Yusei and Kiryu had done _something_ behind their backs, whether it be the 'fooling around' Jack had dismissed it as or something more… something like murder? Was that why Yusei had stayed even after it was clear that their leader was a few cards short of a full deck? Because he had already been involved in what Kiryu was doing, maybe even helping him, maybe unaware of exactly what was happening until that night that he had snapped and nearly killed that officer…?

"But that doesn't make sense either!" he exploded at himself, hitting his forehead with his palm. "Yusei's smart enough to not get involved in something like that and he never goes in without knowing what he's getting into and how to get out!"

But Kiryu…

Muttering darkly to himself about all the problems the silver-haired man was causing, Crow snapped the page over, effectively being slapped in the face by the same memories once again. Four laughing faces were quickly sketched atop a familiar rooftop in the "M" section of the Satellite, a blacked-out map floating above their heads in victory. Although it was a very rough image, it seemed to vibrate and exude energy and joy like a freaking radiator, so powerful that Crow had to wonder if this was the only true time he had felt Yusei's happiness.

Compared to the carrying laugh as he stood next to his comrade in this picture, any tiny smile he had spared since the completion of the Daedalus Bridge paled in comparison. "And how could he be that happy if he was off killing people with Kiryu? Gah, this doesn't make any sense…" he complained again, squinting towards the sun with a glare. "Anyway… when _was_ the last time Yusei laughed like that? Or even smiled like he did with Kiryu?"

He pondered his own words for a moment or two, wondering to himself, "That might have been that time two weeks ago with Aki… Jack and I meant to mention it to Ushio but we kept getting sidetracked… it was weird by Yusei's standards for sure…"

A flash of scarlet caught his attention as the wind rustled the journal. Startled, he watched the page flip over by itself once the breeze calmed, a subtle reminder of the invisible companion he had somehow acquired during his little adventure. Wondering if it was just one of Ruca's spirits or if he had just finally lost his mind, Crow stared at the empty space to his right and sighed, "Aki…"

It was not a flattering image, nor was it one he liked to think that Yusei had created. The substance was thick and cracked, full of fingerprints as if he had smeared the liquid across the page with his index finger. Warped by the fluid drying into it, the page was wavy and unnatural, following the perfectly executed strands of billowing hair that framed the insane eyes of the Black Rose Witch, her appearance much earlier than Crow would have liked.

Infamous, the mask was shattering as she wore it, cracked into her skin like a peeling layer of flesh, one of the few white spaces on the otherwise crimson page. Behind her, dripping as if still wet, was one simple ruin, incomprehensible. Etched in her exposed iris was her claw mark, her reaching hands mimicking the gesture.

The impulse to run his fingers across the surface ran deep, and it took all the self-control he had left not to scratch away at the peeling substance until he confirmed or denied what he feared it was. Suddenly feeling a hand on his own, he jerked back and let out a surprised call, the tension increasing tenfold as the sultry voice appealed to him once more.

_"Don't you wish to understand, Blackbird?"_

"Creepy," he drawled, stowing his fear behind his own mask once more. "You'd think crazy was contagious the way it's been going around here. What's next? Am I going to try and play God or turn Momentum counterclockwise?"

_"You must surpass your own limits."_

Surprised enough to leap to his feet, book firmly in hand, Crow whipped his head in each direction, searching for the voice that dared to speak the words of his friend. "Stop playing games! Where the hell are you?"

_"Yusei told you that. How can you understand him if you don't listen to him?"_

Eyes widening a fraction, he stuttered, "S-Shut up! Who are you to pretend to know Yusei? Come out where I can see you!"

Although there were virtually no hiding places here out in the open graveyard in the middle of the day, he continued to pivot around Pearson's marker in a sharp circle, convinced that the woman was hiding just at the edges of his vision. His thumb pressed deep into the image of Aki's hair and came back dyed the red hue of the blood used to paint it, drawing a cry of disgust from his throat.

_"Are you not a Signer, connected to Yusei's own potential? Can you not see me as your young friend, Ruca, can see spirits? Would you sense me, as a woman would, like Aki? Could you challenge me as your King, Jack?"_

"What the hell are you getting at?" he demanded, settling for letting his eyes roam the open grassy field, every muscle tense and hair upright. "Just because I'm a Signer doesn't mean we're all the same person!"

A pause interrupted the aggravated flow between he and the specter, anger and anxiety heightening all the senses he had to no avail, the culprit remaining hidden in the open. The jab at their bonds was unacceptable and unforgivable, especially at a time when they were stretched so thin and fragile, with the center piece that held them together missing and a link in the chain dead.

Understanding the origin of his hostility, she continued without further hesitation or mercy. _"You have trapped yourself behind your own limits. Until you can overlook what you can't see, you will never surpass your own destiny."_

"Overlook what I can't see? What fortune cookie are you reading from lady?" he snapped taking an aggressive step in what he prayed was the right direction, caught in the winds raging in his chest. "Destiny? It doesn't exist! If you knew Yusei, you'd know he taught me that himself!"

_"If you knew him… you could have saved him."_

Outrage stemmed that gash that she had inflicted on him with such a simple observation, leaving him without the words he treasured as weapons and had hid behind all his life, even before he could read and write them on scraps of paper. Sarcastic remarks, lewd comments, and snarky grins were long since forgotten, putting him right back into the interrogation room where he had stared into Yusei's haunted eyes without saying a word to console him.

_"There is something I have to give, but you first need to find what you need, Crow."_

His jaw worked, but no sound came out, eyes fixated at a point in the distance, seeing only silent sapphire irises, blind and just, dark to hide the stars behind them. Even when he felt his stained hand cradled between hers, he felt no energy to move, allowing her to guide his palm back over Aki's face painted in Yusei's blood and press his fingers into the flowing symbol behind her.

_"When you find it, I will find you."_

The light pressure and soft skin brushed away, mimicking the feeling of downy that came with the remembrance of the mark and lock to the journal in his hands. Although unable to see them, he felt her gaze on his eyes with a fragile intensity ready to be broken with whatever was said next.

Somehow, he knew she grinned, and that it was not a pleasant sight. _"Dig deep, Blackbird. You won't find anything on the surface."_

The sudden finality of her words broke him from his stupor, but when he raised a shaking finger to counter and demand answers, he founds himself completely and utterly alone for the first time in this long day, and was suddenly unable to figure out what to do about it. Hanging useless, he lowered the flipped bird he had given thin air and let his arms fall out before him, glancing down at the last few pages left in Yusei's journal.

_"… He's someone who doesn't need a mask to keep a secret, because the face behind it can't be remembered by anyone who's witnessed it. He's..."_

_"... a mystery, like Yusei."_

"Doesn't need a mask to keep a secret?" he whispered to himself, flopping down on the grass once more, exhausted in a way he had never been before. "Then why does he hide his face?"

Aki glared up at him from her murderous image, early in her days from the Arcadia Movement, too early for Yusei to have seen her; and to portray her in such a way… too early to know her. "Was it the same reason you did, Aki? Because he couldn't look at himself either?"

Unable to stop now that he had nothing to lose, Crow's fingers continued to turn the pages, barely absorbing as various people and creatures he had never seen before filled the pages, the occasional mechanical project fitting its way in, along with a spidery handwriting he recognized but couldn't place. He and Jack appeared more often, Rally occasionally poking his way in, Aki flitting in and out as the Black Rose, weeping or causing destruction, and the silhouette of a dark man began to appear above her, which he surmised to be Divine.

Yet in all the images, excluded the flowing captions he wrote on the back of the page, only the one drawn in blood held the peculiar mark, even when Aki's nearly calligraphic handwriting started to make itself known in the journal, complimenting sketches of her D-Wheel.

_"Don't be scared! You can't replace me with that kind of skill!"_

_"After talking big and joining the team… it's made me understand how inexperienced I am as a D-Wheeler."_

Finally, he could take no more and let the thick torture device drop to the parched grass at his side, casting an arm over his face and sinking down to lay on the earth where Pearson's body would have lay.

"Why didn't you trust us?" he demanded, pressing his arm further against his eyes to stop the tears as they fell. His teeth clenched together in a further attempt to drive away the signs of weakness leaking through his sarcastic mask, only to fail when he shouted, "Why can't I see you, Yusei? How many times will I fail you?"

His fist pounded hard into the earth beside him, searching for a release from the hell he had trapped himself in. The book shook against his chest as it heaved with the effort to hold back sobs, determined to keep the tears in check and be strong like his friend would want him to.

"Where are you?"

Questions unanswered, he let himself sink further into his surroundings, willing the ground to swallow him whole for such a display of weakness. A sharp jab at his side made him roll over, reaching into his back pocket to find what had disturbed him. Black Feather Dragon glowed red under the bright light of the sun, silent and judging with all Pearson's wisdom.

"That's right," Crow said to himself softly, reading the lines of his monster's effect with fondness. "Black Feather Dragon grows stronger when he's in pain. He doesn't stop fighting and takes the hits himself to protect his friends."

He picked himself up, leaning against the tombstone once more, sparing a glance at the yellow daisies he had laid beside him. "You did that for me Pearson, and I've done it for my kids and friends."

Looking away, the dark dragon came back into view, the red in his feathers a blood promise for the brighter future he would create, the destiny he would fight to destroy. A little grin stole the sorrow off Crow's face as he looked at him, and finally he laughed at himself, demanding, "Geez, Crow the Bullet has no business moping around like some girl! What am I depressed about anyway? This is Yusei! There's gotta be some God-awfully complicated explanation to this mess!"

Stowing the journal back in his brown bag once more, he hesitated when he saw the blood on his thumb before gritting his teeth and snapping, "The hell to find what I need. I need answers, and fast if I'm gonna get to Yusei before Security does."

The ghastly image of his friend appearing before the officers to explain himself only to be shot upon sight forced a grunt of fear from his mouth and a grain of truth, "Fine, I'm afraid."

He stood, raising a fist towards the Daedalus Bridge that gleamed in the distance, "But that won't make me hesitate! Like my dragon, I'll just keep fighting no matter how many times I'm knocked over!"

The card gleamed in his fist, as if in approval. Pearson's smile washed over him once more, and Crow took his sights towards home, confident that the officers had finished investigating by now, determined to take a look through what was left just one more time, maybe stumble upon the phone number to a certain lost leader he knew…

"Just wait Yusei," he vowed, turning his back towards this place, "I won't let you die too."

Even though his words were confident, the dream was back that night, and nothing he could say or do seemed to stop it.

His mask was only so strong.

* * *

**Midnight **

**Beach Outcropping**

**Third Person POV**

_What am I doing? Am I crazy?_

The memory drive was slick with the sweat that lined his palms, despite the chill of the late night by the sea. Sneaking out of the garage after Jack and Crow had dragged themselves off to bed had been no problem, seeing as he was the only one on the first floor, and as a result he had arrived much earlier than he had anticipated, having expected the others to stay up much later, plagued by the thoughts of Yusei and Aki's fates as he was.

Crow had seemed strangely energized however, patting his bag every so often as if to reassure himself that something was there. Jack had been something else entirely, simply staring at them as if reading them and saying virtually nothing, only quarreling with Crow once for the entire afternoon that they had been in close contacts.

_And about Kiryu's phone number? Why would he want that right now? Surely Kiryu doesn't need to be worried until after we've sorted all this out and found Yusei?_

Which is what brought him here, alone and freezing, sand in his shoes, feeling as if he were spitting on Yusei's trust by even considering giving Sherry something the two of them had worked so hard on. He glanced down at the program in his palm, wondering how he had managed to get himself into the situation, even if he had tapped into his Dark Glass side to convince Sherry to let him off.

**Remember.**

"It's for Yusei," he acknowledged, gaining the resolve he had seen in Crow's eyes once he came back from wherever it had been he was drifting. "I have to know how he is… I have to help him!"

_It's my mission!_

"You're early."

He jumped in surprise, wondering how she managed to sneak up on him so much when he had enhanced hearing and… pretty much everything else as well. Her arms were crossed and she was clothed in white, standing out strongly in spite of the fact that half the city was looking for her.

_But she still snuck up on you, regardless._

"S-Sherry!" he stuttered, holding out the drive to her in an awkward mix between a greeting bow and a prayer. "I brought the program necessary to Accel Synchro! Now tell me about Yusei!"

He barely felt the pressure of her hand as she snatched it from him, reaching into the satchel that millions of students carried around and pulling out a thin laptop, running the program on the screen as if double-checking.

"You don't trust me?" he felt the need to ask once she had finished, returning the computer and program to the bag without a word. Her eyes were sharp as she shook her head, admitting, "There is only one person I truly trust."

"What about Yusei?" he pressed, hell-bent on getting his end of the deal now that she held a copy of all their hard work. "Didn't you want him on your team? Didn't you trust him?"

She looked away for the first time he had ever seen, staring out at the full moon as it made its way over a stray cloud. "I still haven't decided. What do you want to know about him? Yliaster's Ghost is on the move at night. Make it quick."

"Is he alive? Where is he? What's going on?" he drilled off instantly, the questions burning his lips as they raced off them. "Why did you abandon him?"

The switch was thrown, swapping calm, aloof Sherry with the psychotic torturer whose only need was vengeance and retribution. Snarling and right in his face, her two fists full with the material of his light jacket, she spat, "_Abandon_ him? You _dare_ suggest that I abandoned him?"

Realizing a beat too late that the word would undoubtedly set off feelings from her past and her parent's demise, he raised both hands in placating means, stuttering, "N-No! I didn't mean that at all! I meant why isn't he with you?"

In the weak light, she seemed feral and inhuman, pressed so closely to him that he could feel her warm breath and the scratching of her hair against his face. Nearly slits, her dark green irises evaluated him without mercy, until she let him fall to the sand with a hard thump and continued, "Yusei forced me to leave him. He was still alive them, but there was something wrong with him. He couldn't keep focus and kept…"

She trailed off, looking down at her hands as if remembering a blow she had dealt or a touch he had given. Abruptly, she switched gears once more, settling her gaze on him and through him, continuing, "I don't know where Yusei took me or how we got there, but he wasn't alone. A woman with red hair and green eyes was tending to him after he gave me Stardust and told me to wait until 24 hours had passed to summon it."

"24 hours? Wait?" he echoed, staring up at her with a mixture of wonderment and confusion, amazed that she could handle this so well and curious as to why his friend had made such a strange request. Relief brought him a speck of courage when he heard that things were not as bleak as he had envisioned when Sherry pulled out Stardust Dragon earlier, and hurt boiled in his chest when he realized that she had used his fear to manipulate him into giving her the program.

She shrugged, suddenly bored with him. "I don't understand either, but he said he would find me then."

"What's happening Sherry?" he demanded, although the order was far from intimidating from his knees. "How did you know to come rescue him? Why did you drive into the ocean?"

She turned away, securing a hand over her bag as Crow had done, sighing, "I owed him, so when I heard from one of the news vultures that Security had him, Mizoguchi and I went in. Yliaster is my target. I never meant to get involved in something like this."

"So you don't know?" he needled, needing something more now that he knew Yusei was indeed alive somewhere, hurt and delusional, but alive all the same. "You didn't know about he and the Shadowhunter?"

Silence suddenly came between them, tossing her hair out behind her as she decided whether or not to answer, leaving him to scramble to his feet and hold out an uncertain hand towards her back. Taking a step at his movement, she glanced back at him and took him in once more, and the feeling of being examined nearly overwhelmed Bruno as the more powerful facet of his personality wanted to be known.

One sharp chuckle escaped her and she turned away, holding one hand up towards the moon. Before he could plead with her to stop and explain, a rope snacked down and snatched her thin wrists, yanking her upwards towards the bridge where Mizoguchi stood waiting, activating the device and staring down at him impassively.

He took a few running steps forwards, cursing their ridiculous inventions, knowing it was too late as she mounted her D-Wheel and turned to face him, tucking her hair into her helmet like second nature.

"I know my teammates, Bruno."

* * *

I really like Sherry. She needs to be in more episodes...

Thanks for reading as always!

~AxJfan

She was gone.


	7. Marks of Death

**Disclaimer: I don't own 5ds or The Mortal Instruments.**

* * *

**Marks of Death**

**Third Person's POV**

_You can't ask me to do this!_

Kiryu, you must.

_Thinking I've killed you once is enough!_

Kiryu.

_You can't just give up! That's not like you!_

I will never give up on my bonds Kiryu.

_Then fight! Don't ask this of me!_

There is no other option.

_No other—?_

None. Aki has already died for this.

_… Aki has…?_

_Then you…?_

_ Oh, Yusei…_

Kiryu… please. 

_… Not you, Yusei, this shouldn't be you…_

* * *

**Garage**

Bruno sucked at sneaking out, and sucked even worse at understanding the two left in the garage. Although they had long since turned in, neither was asleep, one locked in an insomniac war with the breeze whispering through his drapes, the other doing the last thing he would had ever thought himself capable of: pouring over a book.

And as predicted, he was bored as a plank.

After spending the better part of the afternoon flipping through it, the words began to spill from his mind, the faces distort, and the technical sketches drip off the page, each passing of tide bringing him right back to the thickest volume of all three life chapters; the witch's bloody portrait and the overlapping symbol in the background.

Hours of spent locked in his room staring at the image had illuminated all of three things to the redhead: 1) The image was _glued_ into the sketchbook, 2) It smelled, and 3) He had no freaking idea what he was supposed to find from it.

Unable to vent out his frustration in the shout that was dying to be released, he smacked his forehead with his open palm, attempting to bring the page back into focus as it winked in and out. All willpower not directed towards that was stopping him from chucking the thing out the window in a cruddy attempt to get rid of the evidence that would incriminate his friend.

"But it could _save_ him too," he groaned lowly to no one in particular, resting his chin on the thin covers. The witch that Aki had pretended to be and that, for a short section in his story, Yusei had believed in grimaced at him from the page, the natural scarlet sheen from the dried blood unnerving and blurring under the strain of the moon.

The weak light pouring in through his window had long since stopped being enough to see by, and although he had heard Bruno's hasty attempt to sneak out of the garage, he felt no urge to get up and turn on his light now that there was no one left to see it. Jack's room was around the bend in the hallway, and thus completely out of disturbances way, so the only thing that was stopping him from reading further were these sheets, so soft and fuzzy, tickling his chin as his hands sagged over the page, almost like the familiar brush of grass…

_The moist wind played softly with his hair, whispering through the bouquet lying serenely against the stone…_

_

* * *

_

**Tops Manor**

"Ruca?"

She made no move to reply, simply curled up around the pillow she clutched tighter, seeking the comfort in its downy that her parents had neglected to give her all her life. The harsh light from the flickering television seemed to drain the life from her already pale face, her throat ravaged from attempting to swallow the sharp words from the screen.

"Ruca?" he repeated, hopping over the back of the couch with mild difficulty, plopping down beside her in a move that usually had her up and startled, ready to reproach and rechecking her pigtails. The eyes that matched his simply flickered up to his fading grin and back to the television, her lips forming a wordless command.

A little freaked out, he turned away from his twin to do as she wished, wondering what kind of news story had gotten her so worked up now. Yusei was already in a bunch of trouble, so really, what worse could happen? He wasn't dead, they'd know that from Ruca's mark for sure, and Yusei was way too super-cool to die. And anyways, Ruca had even admitted that she hadn't felt anything from Aki last night when she supposedly died, and now that her body was missing… that meant she was alive right, with Yusei, trying to sort this mess out?

_"How can someone just lose a body?"_

Too young to understand his folly, he hit the 'replay' option on the remote, noting that Ruca had recorded this for some reason or another. He was already forming a pep speech for his sister when it began, and it was only when the anchorwoman warned that some things in the footage may be inappropriate for children did it fully catch his attention.

_So Ruca saw something freaky?_

Before the thought could finish itself, the blonde ex-reporter vanished from the screen, in its place a strange tape with a title and sequence below it that knocked all the wonderment from his heart.

_Arcadia Movement_

_Room 314: Izayoi Aki_

_March 28th _

_(Three years ago)_

It was a simple room with four light peach walls, a mahogany bed with a tattered cloak spread across the covers, a few end tables, and a maroon couch, on which a man slept, his face hidden underneath the crook of his arm. His leg was elevated on the armrest, his slumber troubled and fretful, and in the corner of the room Divine stood in silent observation, making no move to help.

Beside him, Aki towered in her full Black Rose Witch garb, her posture rigid and unwelcoming in the confining space. "You should have let him die," she accused suddenly, hunching more into herself as the man on the bed muttered something about witches. The card in her hand trembled as she drew it, "I'll finish the job myself."

Suddenly fearing he was about to see his sister figure commit murder, Rua made a grab for the remote, only to have his sister snatch it away and shake her head slowly, touching his hand and calming him without words. They continued to watch.

Divine smiled down at his protégé in amusement, noting, "He saved your life and this is how you wish to repay him?" She had no response to this, instead lowering her weapon and pointing her masked face in his direction. "Regardless, Aki, he seems to be a psychic as well, and I will not turn anyone called a monster onto the streets."

She looked away, the scowl muddying her features clear even past the mask. "I'll get some new bandages then," she announced, abruptly marching out of the room without so much of a curt goodbye. He nodded as if in approval, but when her door shut a troubled look appeared on his face and he wondered, "Is this man making her think for herself?"

"Who are you?"

The elder psychic turned sharply back towards the couch; concealing his alarm when he found a face he couldn't identify glaring back, very much conscious and dangerous in spite of the injury marring his right leg. Realizing that he must have been awake for a long while now and simply waiting for Aki to leave the room, Divine bowed his head to show he meant no harm and answered, "My name is Divine, and I'm the head of the Arcadia Movement, a home for all psychic duelists."

"Like your girlfriend there, right?" the young man replied, sitting up and swinging his uninjured leg across his lap absently. "Aren't you a little too old for her anyway? Wait, let me guess"—he interrupted both himself and Divine as he made movements to correct him—"she has Daddy issues."

Surprise was a quick flash in Divine's green eyes as the teen came close to the truth before he stashed the emotion away, determined to take control of the situation, "You're mistaken, I'm afraid. My Black Rose Witch is grateful that you saved her from Security, so she's allowed you to stay in her room while you recover. I'm here because I've heard the rumors that you may be a psychic duelist."

"If her gratitude is wanting to kill me I'd hate to see her anger."

It was obvious at this point that the victim on the bed was not paying attention, preferring to look around the room and stick his hands in his pockets as if searching for something. A frown graced his unknown features as the duelist barreled on, taking his silence as a defense mechanism that needed to be broken down.

"The Arcadia Movement is a home for all lost Psycho Duelists who are in need, and I would like to welcome you into it," Divine finished, wrapping up the speech when his guest glanced back up at him.

"So I can be _your_ _Shadowhunter?_ No thanks," he drawled, coming close to the smooth pitch of the older man's voice. Finally concluding that whatever he was looking for was lost, he moved on to examining the bandaged wound on his leg, adding one last comment. "That's weird."

Mildly taken aback by the abrupt dismissal, but unperturbed, he asked, "What?"

The teen's eyes were cold as he looked up, fingering the bloodied fabric, "The Arcadia Movement causes wounds, not heal them. You've got Security wrapped around your finger. You could kidnap the Senator's daughter if you want to."

An uneasy silence stretched between them as the Shadowhunter continued to work at the bandages covering his wound, Divine reevaluating his tactics and coming in with a harder route. These little jabs towards his witch put an unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach, something he had not felt for a very long time, and he was uncertain whether or not these small blows were fact or fiction in the teen's mind.

Yet it was pointless to refute the statement made if the criminal before him was as certain as his tone suggested, and all that was left to do was to appeal to the possibility that he didn't give a damn about it anyway.

"Some of my guests do stir up trouble," he shrugged, taking a slow step towards the couch, "and it's true that the Director won't touch us. You've had trouble with authority yourself, haven't you, Shadowhunter?"

Attention was gained once more, this time with caution and a biting tongue, eyes narrowed, "I don't need an amateurs' help."

"They have footage you know," Divine continued, ignoring the warning signs in his captive's tensed muscles. He knew the physical limits of the man and his own power very well, not to mention that the man was deck-less and thus no threat at all. "Of you jumping that man in the alley. Killing him."

A little smirk was drawn from the comment. "And you think that was the only one? I can handle myself." Then, tittering to himself slightly, "I've got friends in higher places."

"In Security?" Divine questioned, now at the foot of the makeshift bed, pressing one palm into the back of it and staring down at the man, his shadow engulfing the Shadowhunter entirely. In spite of the intimidating appearance, he simply gave a nasty laugh and rebuked, "Like you and your precious witch? Covering up property damage, a few broken bones, a lost criminal or two? Why would they shoot at me if I had pull over them? Why would they risk hitting your protected witch if they were with me?"

Divine's answer was the frustrated smile plastered on his face and the abrupt change in topic, "How did you escape with my Witch and end up on my rooftop?"

"You're not very good at this whole interrogation thing, are you?" he asked, content with staring up at the man in his failed attempt to appear domineering. At the slight flush coloring the man's cheek, he recognized a weak point and pushed further, "You think you've got this whole place locked up tight, that woman especially, Aki, did you call her? You said it yourself. She's only here because she's got no where else to go."

"Daddy issues?" Divine repeated wryly, earning a lazy grin from the man below him.

"There you go, you're catching on," he encouraged with an almost vampiric gleam in his teeth. He stretched out his arm until his back cracked, his fingers brushing against the man's overcoat before continuing, "So what happens when these issues go away? When some highly attractive young man sweeps her off her feet and steals her away from you? When someone takes a bullet for her and proves that not everyone thinks she's some kind of monster?"

Divine eyed the bullet wound that had ripped through the Shadowhunter's leg, but was otherwise unruffled. "Aki will stay. You won't change that."

The grin received in return was monumental, "I already have."

The desired effect was the lost on the psychic, who was determined to bring things back into his corner. Pulling out the simplest of the aces in his hole, he blew a stream of air from his lips and sighed, "How long are you going to keep up this charade?"

He blinked a few times, although the snarl hidden in his eyes subtracted from his aloof appearance. "Excuse me?"

"If you were really as much of an asshole as you trying to convince me you are," Divine elaborated with a bored tone, "then you wouldn't have gone through all you did to make sure Aki stayed alive, someone you don't even know."

"What did she tell you?" he wondered, eyes slit in guarded confusion. "She's not making up knight-in-shining-armor stories, is she? I've got a reputation to maintain."

"And that's my point."

The Shadowhunter made an exasperated noise, "You make as much sense as card games on motorcycles."

Taking a chance, Divine knelt from his commandeering position so that he rested leisurely at the end of the couch, giving the wild teen a sympathetic glance and keeping his arms open, legs uncrossed. "The fact that you have to keep up a reputation is my point. The fact that you don't have a name of your own, that you hide your face, that you reject that you're a psychic, and that you haven't even asked anything about how you ended up here or how long it's been—they all prove that you're just clinging to some mask to try and protect something."

Though the humor had drained from his face, the Shadowhunter's eyes remained cold, his tone light, "Well aren't you the pot calling the kettle black."

Ignoring him once more, Divine continued, making sure to keep his voice low and welcoming as if addressing a frightened animal; for he fully believed that this teen would behave as such, the wrong word sending off more verbal attacks to deflect him from the truth. "You saved my Witch's life when it was an inconvenience to you. Surely someone like yourself must have people at home waiting for you?"

"And you're a saint among men, taking in the misunderstood, absolutely _Divine_," he drilled off back, fighting to keep himself relaxed when the man smiled, "surely you've got more than just a lovesick teenager following you around."

"So you have no one?" Divine smiled, and it was not entirely an unpleasant sight, his face still soft from assurance that he would succeed in any plans he may carry; the folly of empowered youth. "I'm here for you, I care about you."

Mocking horror twisted across the blurred face before him, mouth falling open in apparent disgust, "I wasn't offering! I have a strict policy against commitment to psychos with no soul!"

"Come now," he insisted gently, holding out his long, thin hand to the bristling teen before him. "You can trust me, I'd do nothing to hurt you. I'd be the one protecting you and you'd have a family with all the others here. You don't need to fight for yourself anymore. You can give yourself a name. You can drop that mask."

While this speech had on numerous occasions caused tears and sobs and smiles like the sun to burst from his recruitments, had made people leap into his arms or accept him with a hearty handshake, it did nothing but amuse the man before him.

"For one," he replied, staring at the hand as if it were coated in saliva, "_Hell_ no. For two, seeing as you've done such a _great_ job protecting Aki, I'll bet my soul I'd go nuts after two days in here. For three, I'm not a psychic."—he held up his middle finger when Divine meant to interrupt, adding hastily—"For four, I'm no duelist you moron."

"Then why was this on your person when Aki dragged you down here?" he questioned, reaching for his coat pocket and pulling up empty, a flummoxed expression crossing his face. Hastily, he patted the several other pockets of his coat, attempting to continue his calm outlook while he remained harried within. The Shadowhunter watched him fumble with rapidly growing amusement, face changing from defensive to at ease once more, his element regained.

"Looking for this?"

It really shouldn't have surprised him as much as it did to see the silver card dangling between those quick fingers, but Divine couldn't help but splutter, "How did…?" Then suddenly remembering the light brush of the man's fingers against his coat when he had stretched, his mouth snapped shut and his confidence was back, "So you're a thief as well?"

"Taking lives is my specialty," he agreed, twirling the card back towards the camera in an obvious attempt at pissing the other off, "taking other things is more of a hobby."

"So who did you take _Stardust Dragon_ from then?"

While Rua's chest sudden felt as if a frost had come over it, becoming more and more sensitive to the excruciating cold with every passing second.

The scene cut away abruptly, the blond reporter beginning to fill in details for those who were thickly oblivious of the scandal that was the Fortune Cup semi-final duel last year. "Stardust Dragon is the ace card of Fudo Yusei, winner of the fortune cup, and he was recorded using this beast in his match against Izayoi Aki, Jack Atlas, and Team Unicorn in this last WRGP match."

Her face was hardly impassive under the lights of the studio; nearly glowing as she relayed the story of her career to the two small children watching in silent horror, frostbite sinking hard into their limbs, leaving them immobile.

Angela wrapped up, gesturing towards a second clip that appeared beside her. "Further evidence has come to light with the decoding of the Arcadia Movement's video files about the relationship between Fudo Yusei and Izayoi Aki, which is often speculated about due to Ms. Izayoi's complete change of heart after the Fortune Cup, along with a hasty pardon from Director Goodwin shortly before his death."

Her cryptic pause seemed to suggest some foul play in that matter as well, however, she relinquished her spot to the old security tapes once more.

The Shadowhunter fiddled with the large balcony window hastily, the lock escaping his grasp due to his injured hands. Glaring silently at the peeled skin as if wondering how it had happened, he dragged his leg back to the couch, gingerly laying himself down as the door clicked open, allowing Aki to enter in her mask, clutching a roll of bandages as if they were the only things stopping her from hitting him.

"Why am I in this room if it bothers you so much?" he wondered, sitting up as if for the first time in hours, for some reason hiding the fact that he had been messing with her window. Not bothering to answer, she marched to her bed and threw his cloak to the ground, glaring at him as if expecting him to pick it up.

"Cover your eyes, I need to change."

After an amused pause he leaned forward, cupping a hand over his face as if pulling away a mask, "Show me yours and I'll show you mine."

The next moment found the roll of bandages aimed at his face, which he caught with no problem in his stained hands, grunting slightly at the smarting pain. "Can't take a joke at all, can you, Aki?"

"Don't call me that," she snapped, tearing off her large concealing cloak and stuffing it in the bottom of her closet, uncaring if it wrinkled under her few articles of clothing. The view inside was dark and empty, a single school uniform and three dark magenta outfits were all the girl had to call her own. Slamming the door shut with more force than necessary, she made a grab at her gloves only to stop abruptly, turning to him as if revealing her arms was an intimate act.

"You're right, much too familiar," he agreed, "can't have your boyfriend getting jealous can we?"

Denying nothing, she scooped up his cloak and marched towards him, shoving it over his head and declaring, "Look and die."

The fabric vibrated as he chuckled heartily, pointing out, "You're too brainwashed to even think about going against your master's wishes."

Her teeth clicked together this time, the sound of rustling clothing disguising whatever insult she had hissed back at him. Yet he had heard whatever it was, judging by the sudden cruel laughter that escaped from his mouth. The twins stared, transfixed, as Aki made her way to the window, tugging the dress to her feet to retrieve her pajamas, all the while keeping her elbow-length gloves firmly in place.

She paused as she slipped into the nightgown, staring cross-eyed at her reflection in her window, or more specifically, the red-stained lock that Divine had insisted she install the second she had dragged him from the roof, unconscious and barely breathing. Casually, she slid the cotton over her curves, turning to judge him as he silently waited for her to finish, obviously not peeking in spite of his jeers.

His feet were propped up on the end table Divine had made his monsters move around earlier, a few papers wrinkled and warped as if left to air dry after becoming wet. A quick glance outside confirmed it was sprinkling enough to distort them if brought outside and she had to ask,

"Have you looked at the papers Divine gave you?"

"And write my name in blood?" he replied, bending over himself to snatch the papers, ignoring the blindness inflicted upon him by the heavy clothing. His strong fingers held them up with no problem, revealing his somewhat curious observation skill and a much more gruesome side of his joke. "But I took the kindness to renew your application."

She froze as she stared into the image he had painted with his own blood, urging him to risk peeking out from under the cloak, revealing that he too was no longer smiling. Her mouth worked with unheard words, eyes wide behind her plaster wall, heart hammering loud enough for everyone in the room to hear as she stared into her own face, the features she had worked so hard to hide over the years, the sight that had been so casually drawn with painstaking detail onto the back of the Arcadia information sheet.

Finding her voice, she managed to choke, "You think this is a _joke?_"

"I'm not laughing," he replied softly, sounding perfectly honest for the first time since he had grabbed her and leapt off the roof. "Are you?"

With a shriek, Rose Tentacles appeared in a flash of violet light, her summoning hand moving nearly too quick to follow. Pinned down before a word of protest could escape him, she was in front of him, hand gripping her gloved forearm with enough strength to break it.

"Show me!" she snapped, abruptly reaching out towards him with her fingers clawed, mirroring the image on the paper perfectly. Her hand found his jaw and squeezed, forcing him to stare at her, the thick black tattoos that dominated his skin standing out as he paled. "Who the hell are you? Did my father send you? Is that why you saved me?"

He blinked incomprehensibly, not bothering to struggle against the thorns that held him bodily in place. She was unthinkably close to him, eyes brimming with scarlet, a sure warning of frightened tears on their way, her breath a hot fume against his scratched cheeks. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours," he repeated, working one hand free and setting his fingertip on her mask, the highest he could reach.

Even though he already knew whose face lied behind it, Rose Tentacles tightened its grip on him, earning her a satisfying cry of pain as the thorns dug into his already battered body. Grimacing, he cracked one eye open, working his hand higher, ignoring the shallow grazes the plant made on his skin. His fingers managed to fit in the grooves that hid her eyes before she'd had enough, her fear overcoming uncertainty.

_"Monster!"_

As if triggered, the creature behind her flung him against the opposing wall, forcing a crash that echoed through much more than just the Arcadia Movement's walls. For a moment something like regret flashed across what might have been blue eyes, but the resounding wail from the overwhelmed drove it from him like the words he had spat to a king long ago.

The crushing weight of heavy vines holding him above her was forgotten at the cool feeling still lingering on his fingertips, the mask having parted from her face by the sticky grab of the blood that coated his palm. Although he had been prepared for the pain she would undoubtedly deal him, the sight of tears streaming down her cheeks left him disconcerted, and for once in his half-life, completely at a loss for words.

_"Monster…"_ it was a whisper from her lips now, pale and white against the red blotches on her face. Wounded amber eyes flashed open with renewed hate, as if his silent request to see her had forced the foul word from her. She regarded him silently, her rage billowing in the grip she had on her arm, paralyzed where she stood now that her face was in the open, now that he had seen her shameful weakness.

Realizing if he continued to stare at her as he did she would see his face behind the mask as well, he blurted, "You're much more beautiful when you're yourself."

Hoping futilely that the smirk he plastered over his concern was enough to deflect her, he then hefted the mask over his own face. Rose Tentacle's hold on him made the movement difficult and awkward, every ounce as unnatural as it felt. But it worked.

The laugh that left her foreshadowed their next brutal encounter, and she whispered, "I'm a witch who enjoys the suffering of others."—a lopsided smile carved across her cheeks and tears, bringing an otherworldly light into her dark eyes—"And who are you, Shadowhunter?"

"Well," he began matter-of-factly, the mask jostling with his movements. She advanced rapidly, cutting across his deflection with a swipe at his head, adding an indigent, _"Ow!"_ into the mix. Dangling a few strands of golden hair between her fingers, she threatened, "I'll find out soon enough."

The sudden stare-down between the exposed eyes and the stolen mask probably would have gone on for hours, days even, if it wasn't interrupted by Divine bursting into the room, his ace monster gliding beside him. As he took in the bizarre and concerning scene before him, the Shadowhunter had the tact to reply, "A little late, aren't we?"

Completely ignoring him, he turned towards his charge, whose look of shame had returned tenfold. Almost as if embarrassed, she held out the ripped hairs to him in silent contemplation, which he took immediately, dropping his offensive state. His free arm wrapped around her shoulder in comfort and protection, turning a curious glare in the pinned man's direction, wondering, "What happened?"

He shrugged and answered, "Daddy issues."

Angela reappeared, her lovely features attempting to be grave. The overall affect made her look like a pained toad, which was forgotten with her words, "At the time, the tests over the Arcadia Movement's DNA test returned negative, which was not surprising. After the tragedy with Zero Reverse, all data was lost, and many criminals took this in stride, lacking to sign up for identification so they may carry on undetected by Security."

This pause was not for understanding, but for emphasis. "Or if you were in the Satellite."

The next transition into the clips was abrupt but appropriate, showing Rose Tentacles fading and the Shadowhunter offering a hand to Aki, Divine out of sight, off running his tests for leverage over the man's head. She glared at the appendage as incredulously as he had Divine's, urging him to speak, soft and gentle.

"You are not a monster, and your powers don't make you a witch."

"I hate you."

The black Marks dancing up and down his arms seem to gleam in the early moonlight as it broke free from the remnants of rain. He was not afraid of her, nor deterred by her words, and he seemed to be earnest as he replied, "I'll catch whatever you throw out."

He put weight on his injured leg and let his hands catch in the feeble light. Her eyes widened in recognition. She stepped away, repeating her words, "I hate you so much."

Ridiculously, he shrugged and turned his back to her, the eyes of her stolen mask lingering against her skin in the starlight. The space where his hand had been moments before seemed drained, almost shackled without its presence to release her, the choice he had offered and she denied. Somehow, refusing this man felt horrendously wrong, although her heart begged her to stay away from him lest he end its beating.

She stared at the mask he had so casually lifted from her face without any more words to throw, and although the strain in his back showed his pain, his voice was cheerful and his answer truthful, "Good."

Without a further word he mounted the sill of her window, examining the glittering lights of the city catching against his silver scars like treasure. Like a returning phantom, he turned to her once more, taking in the surroundings of the Arcadia Movement with faint disgust—and for a moment she felt like she knew him, knew him like she had once known herself, as she thought she knew Divine, and as she wished she knew her family.

"Are you going to kill me?" she wondered. Sometimes, she thought he knew her too. Though hidden by the pilfered mask, she felt the intense chill of his gaze on her face, saw his mouth whisper deadly truths, the words sliding off his lips like a sigh.

"You're not dead yet, Black Rose."

Leaving her in confusion, he leaned backwards and past the windowpane, gliding down the sky like a solitary drop of rain, vanishing into the night as if she had simply imagined him. She ran to the window's edge with a scream that would drive Divine to her quarters, reaching downwards with her gloved hands more desperately than she had in years, feeling expressions slide across her vulnerable face, illuminated by the full light of the moon.

She caught the last moment of his descent, and was sure she heard laughter. The darkness claimed him.

And Angela was back to tell them why any of this mattered at all; why it meant that Fudo Yusei had been connected to the Shadowhunter and was to be brought to justice, dead or alive, the prior preferred. "Viewers of the Fortune Cup will remember Fudo saying something very similar to Izayoi Aki during their match. Several important facts have been revealed in just these three clips one of our sources have _recovered_ from Security, as they took it in their best interest to try and cover up the existence of the Shadowhunter."

The camera shifted angles, and Angela turned to look at them rather dramatically, "The rumors that circulated around the Damon area soon diminished after this visit to the Arcadia Movement, no doubt because it was only a week later that Fudo was sent to Security for breaking into Neo Domino City. Of the little known about the villain, these facts cropped up the most: He could make jumps that no man could, he could attain speeds impossible to even the fastest Olympic runner, the only thing quicker than his feet was his tongue, he was littered with silver scars and black tattoos, and he was either a psychic or a demon."

Her eyes seemed to pierce the viewers, green and shallow in her costly victory, "He is no psychic."

A sidebar appeared, flooded with information gathered from the golden strands of hair, long since lost with the fall of the Arcadia Movement. "Although at the time there were faults in the ID system," the reporter admonished with a superior air, "now every Satellite citizens has been registered, especially those competing in the WRGP."

_Match_, made its way onto the side-screen, soon pulling up the information that every viewer who knew him had been dreading, eating away at something already fragile and cracked between them.

"For those who thought they knew him," she wrapped up, "be thankful that you never truly did, like Divine, Izayoi Aki, and countless others have."

Yusei's face, grim and marked by society, flashed across the scene. As the reporter opened her mouth to list the details of other petty news stories, the remote made a violent move to silence her, followed by the clipped voice of a woman who shared her features.

"Mizoguchi, what time is it?"

She remained completely oblivious that miles away two small children sat in complete silence, staring at their would-be brother from a spacious and empty couch, clinging onto each other as if it was all they had.

Blond hair fanning out behind her, she paced the large warehouse as if its endless walls were far too close, the enormous beast she carried within her too small for even the largest of cages. He watched her restless feet with concern he had showed only one other man, offering, "Two forty in the morning, twenty minutes left, My Lady."

If she heard his words she ignored him, stomping from one end of the abandoned ruin to the other, feeling as alone in the cold space as the twins felt in their luxurious mansion. Stardust Dragon seemed to radiate a chill that had nothing to do with anger or fear, but a warning that the French woman would not heed, the impatience and need for truth and obsession that could not be quelled.

Not even by his hope.

* * *

**Unknown**

"Yusei!"

The woman had long since vanished down the tracks that led to his little room, deeming that her presence was unneeded in the final act of one man's life. He looked up from where he had been left, physically alone but wallowing in the memories of happier times, and seeing the man he had been so desperately searching for framed in the tiny window between the earth sent him hurtling back.

The old panes made no sound as she swung them open, betraying his meticulous oiling and care for them. For a moment she hesitated, framed in the light pollution leaking behind her, features undistinguished, and with a great breath her bare feet met the carpet. Although her entrance was soundless, he felt her there regardless, yet felt no specific urge to get up from where he lie, content with opening his eyes and looking at her over his covers.

The noises of the other three in the garage seemed distant and unnecessary compared to the volumes spoke between their eyes, the lack of noise both protecting them and damning them in the bonds they floundered to maintain. Finally, once the last door had closed with a thrown insult at the eldest Signer, Yusei whispered, "You shouldn't be here."

"I don't give a damn."

Her feet dragged across the carpet as she approached him, echoing her in a soft hiss. Stopping at his bedside, she held one gloved hand out to him, lower lip trembling, as if asking him to kiss it. Raising an eyebrow, he reached out one palm and took it, his rough hands catching on the fabric.

With one quick glance at her shielded eyes, he tugged. The black fabric was thrown high above their heads and soared onto the desk on the other side of the room, exposing the marks that bound them together. Arms tense, she breathed his name and fisted her hand, staring at the Dragon Mark he had exposed with a mixture of uncertainty and principal.

Finally she crawled into bed him with, and nothing was needed to provoke his arms around her, his wrist over hers. It was not perfect and smooth like the world had told them, his bed was meant for one, and he was crammed awkwardly against the wall while she struggled to find a comfortable place on his chest. Finally discovering the crook of his neck supported her head nicely, she settled down with a frustrated sigh.

"You weren't right," she muttered, gripping his shirt as she spoke, "but I'm sorry anyway."

Amber and sapphire met for the first time in days, both tired and shamed at what they had put the other through, "I deserve to know you, Yusei… but I'm not even sure you know yourself anymore."

The silence where he tried to answer was long and tense, the muscles in his face working as he worked against becoming stone. Seeing the effort he put in seemed to appease her for the time being, however, and she moved her hand up to his chin. This time, her grip was soft, as were her words, "I can't let you die."

Seized with the sudden need to reassure her, to protect her from himself; he cupped his head in his Marked arm, pulling her closer still. There was no perfect fit between them, but her hand was pleasant over his rapidly beating heart, and his arms enclosing her was the most wonderful place in her world. Her bare fingers traced the muscles over his shirt, smiling at the organ that couldn't lie to her, "I'll protect this."

That assurance only set the muscle's tempo faster, and she sighed, "I know you don't want me involved—"

"—in this," Kiryu's voice startled him back, although his eyes had weakened to the point where he was nothing more than a blob of gray and silver, the occasional golden flash alerting to position of his eyes. The Dyne Mine tracks rusted behind him in silence, the once harried carts decimated on the sidelines.

"Kiryu…"

He felt hands on his shoulders, shaking him as his head lolled, the memories of this place threatening to tear him from this place before he was ready. "Yusei, what's going on? Why did she come and get me? Are you hurt?"

He cracked open a hazy eye and whispered, relief evident in every part of him, "You're alive."

Confusion passed over his friend's face. Then, deciding that a laugh would be much better than a half delirious state, he ventured, "And I only had to die three times too!"

Perhaps three years ago that would have drawn a laugh, under the security of their Team Satisfaction façade, under the stars and thrill of the hunt and justice. But there was no humor in Yusei's eyes tonight. "You're in danger."

"Why?" Kiryu evaded, instinctively checking his partner over for wounds, ignoring the small cut across his cheek that made his marker into a cross. He paused at Yusei's wrist, staring as if he had been delivered a low blow, before trying to pass it off as an examination of the Dragon Head Mark instead.

It was easier to stay now that his goal was sitting before him, yet his tongue was so tired from disuse and his lungs already slowing, through his heart beat on undeterred, determine to fit in a lifetime's to these next few minutes. Suddenly having absolutely no idea where to begin, he watched Kiryu tremble with an inkling of worry, but even that emotion barely touched him now, hidden somewhere far beyond a thick curtain.

Realizing how very little he actually had left to say to the one person he had ever let understand him, he mustered up the energy to ask the last favor he could, the whisper _Ithuriel_ like a curse in the stale mountain air. The blade rose dimly between them, drawing Kiryu's quick eyes and illuminating half of his face.

Making out the rage in those eyes, he quickly backtracked, "It's the only way!"

Taking several steps in the opposite direction of the knife on the table between them, Yusei let his disgust reign true between them, hoping the bite in his words would bring Kiryu to his senses, "Should I do it now then, or do you want me to invite Jack and Crow to watch?"

"You won't _actually_ hurt me!" Kiryu insisted, taking a few hasty steps forward, desperation in his voice. The map lay half-colored beside the knife; a reminder of what was necessary to reach their goals, what needed to be sacrificed to reach their greater good. His fists and resolve trembled under the weight of that goal, and his eyes were as cold as the mask he had started to wear was.

"Yusei," Kiryu continued hastily, seeing that indignation had choked the words out of him. "This zone is way too dangerous for us to charge ahead like we normally do, you said so yourself. An ambush is the best way to proceed!"

"How the hell is this an ambush, Kiryu?"

The sound of footsteps echoed down the dingy building as Crow and Jack heard the shouting, the kids' laughter coming to an abrupt halt at the unfamiliar sound of Yusei's raised voice. Hands slamming down on the table between them, he leaned forward, the knife between his palms. "You're asking too much! It's too dangerous!"

His victim shot an alarmed look at the ceiling as Crow called out for them, worried. Shooting the murderous man a pleading look, he stashed the knife in the inside pocket of his fur-lined jacket, quickly morphing his features into the determined leader. "We have no choice."

By now, the other two had burst into the room, just in time to see Yusei turn his back on them to hide his rage and clenched teeth, forcing the words from his mouth as he left. "No—"

"—I can't Yusei." Kiryu's fingers lingered on his as he fisted the blade, his unseen face paling.

Heart continuing to beat in vain, the sound opened his senses to what he was asking for. As if the dulling of the world around him had made everything within him clearer, he was suddenly aware of just how miraculous it was that he was alive; that he was still breathing despite all of the danger and turmoil he had caused and been put through.

Each breath was a whispering relief, each drum of his heart a gift, each emotion that glided behind his mask a small wonder he could never hope to understand. Yet he smiled anyway, wise enough in his short years to know it was what he couldn't understand that was truly beautiful.

With what little strength wasn't fighting off the void, he raised the other hand and folded it around Kiryu's fist. Something broke in those eyes, a streak of liquid silver leaking down as evidence.

Her hand trembled in his fist as he hauled her head against his chest, shaking her shoulders, begging for her name as the last tear of the night fell, leaving her cheeks glistening and pure. Blood dripped from his, the blood that pooled in his free hand, working to save her, praying to anyone watching that she be spared…

_"I love you, Yusei."_

Those had been the last words to part from those lips, the last secret they would keep between them, the last blood promise to show how much they would sacrifice for the other, she on her need to be saved and to be acknowledge, he on his need to save and stay hidden. Her hand had long since been limp, but her heart raced on, refusing the pointless cliché of a death in her loved one's embrace.

"Not like this," he swore, the creature that had meant to end his life already a smoldering charcoal behind him. "Never like this."

The ground was still scuffed with the marks from her heels as she leapt out in front of him, still stained with her blood as he traced the same circle around her stomach. Hissing softly, breathe renewed in her throat as he finished the track, bringing his slick hand to the one he still held, determined not to look and see if the wound was mending, if the rune would still bring color back into her pale skin.

He was determined to hope and to believe, to stare into the gleaming face, full of sweat and fear, until it was made new again by her large amber eyes. He was determined to gaze at her lashes until he saw the slightest tremble, until she filled his heart with relief once more. He was determined that he would not let her die, that her attempted sacrifice would never happen again, for it was already in vain.

It all played between them as their eyes locked, her hair fisted by a large, bearded man and arms tied behind her back, powers running wild but ineffective while the small child held her deck. Her lips hovered over the lake before her, ready to be submerged at any time. In her eyes he was reflected kneeling before the shores, hand hovering over the marks burned into the grass, the man who was behind Ghost laughing triumphantly about a new future.

_"I love you, Yusei."_

"Aki!" he shouted, hoping that the mastermind of the plan that held her was quick enough to stop her. But there had always been something wrong with the man, something that prevented him from predicting the twists and turns they would take together, the emotions that forced them to act outside of calculations. He had no chance of saving her life, and Yusei was trapped within his own fate.

He stumbled forward regardless; never one to give into the illusion of destiny, but Aki had made it so he truly did not have the power to save her. Her head went under, mouth wide open with the words of love, and although the bearded man acted quickly in his surprise, by the time she had emerged, she was coughing and spluttering as she swallowed the cursed water, eyes wide and name forced out of her mouth, _"Yusei!"_

Biting back shock and agony unlike anything that had burned him before, he reached out a grabbed—

—hold of his hand like they had in old times, as they had the first night Yusei had balked from their idealistic goals. Fatigue overwhelmed him, leaving nothing distinguishable from the world but the voice left talking to him.

"You can't ask me to do this!"

It was a beg, no longer a demand, perhaps his once leader understood that he was no longer here to be hurt, that this was the way to ensure that he would not truly die. Finding his voice was an effort he barely had enough energy to spare, and he felt his hands slipping from those that held his, and he was tired… just so tired…

"Kiryu, you must…"

* * *

**Way longer than intended. This seems to be a repeating pattern of mine...**

**Anyone else excited about what the next 5ds episode could bring for Yusei? Or am I just crazy as always?**

**Thanks for reading as always!**

**~AxJfan**


	8. Descent into Hell

**Disclaimer: I don't own 5ds or The Mortal Instruments.**

**Happy Holidays everyone!  
**

* * *

**Descent into Hell**

**Third Person POV**

**City Streets**

_"Ushio… is Aki…?"_

Heaving a sigh far too great, the Chief turned to them, rubbing his gray and balding head in a useless attempt to relieve stress. As if burned into the screen, the images continued to play, falling into place, transcending time, and carving aging lines into their still young faces. Mikage's heels scuffed the floor as she shifted, hand covering her mouth in a now rare sign of weakness.

"Well Officers?" Chief sighed, peering at his two commanding agents in utter exhaustion. "What is your opinion on the actions we should take?"

Yusei's blood match seemed to have blinded the woman who had begun to revere him and the Officer whose life he had changed. Their superior sighed once more, "I see, if you are too emotionally attached to the case—"

"Shoot to kill," Ushio interrupted, taking a hasty step forward. "If he resists, Security should not hesitate to take this criminal out."

_"Ushio!"_ Mikage began, but understanding soon graced her features when she saw the trembling in his massive shoulders. Quick and competent as her title required, she straightened and faced the surprised man. "… is right. Just because we have ties with Yusei—no, _because_ we have ties with him—it's only fitting that we bring him to justice ourselves. Finding the truth is the only way to put us at ease, and he will receive no special treatment because he has…"

"Security wrapped around his finger," Ushio finished, blinking hard to hide the waver in his speech. The Shadowhunter's… no, Yusei's… taunt at Divine was something he would rather not repeat.

The sigh that escaped him this time was of relief, and a wary smile snuck its way in, "That's great news. You passed."

"Eh?" the partners exclaimed, gladly welcoming shock in place of the smarting betrayal and burning shame.

The man before them spared a passing look as he strode towards the door. It was now that they noticed his clothes seemed to hang off him, the weight of his skin against his bones, and the slow and pained way in which he walked, which was so vastly different from the man who strode confidently through the halls. Bowed under the strain from his civil duties, he turned to them and admitted, "I'm resigning, and leaving this case to you. I've already let the media have these tapes; the people need to know about the danger. Congratulations Mikage, you are now Chief of Security, and Ushio, you will take her position and act as her second in command."

"W-What?" Ushio spluttered.

"Chief!" Mikage exclaimed, closing the space between them with her hand on his shoulder. "What about your family? Don't you wish to solve this case to make them safe?"

"You're still young, Mikage," he replied, turning the handle to crack open the door. He remained where he was however, glancing back into her hard golden eyes. "We've become close under this job, and I know you will handle this position well. You will not become a puppet for the 3 Directors as I have."

"Puppet?" Ushio echoed. Then, as the man made his way out the door, his badge and gun still lying idle on the desk behind them, "Chief! Wait, think this through!"

Without looking back, the man whispered, "Good luck."

_"Ushio… Aki… where's Aki?"_

There had never been a time in his life that he was more afraid. Not when he had nearly been crushed in the Daedalus Pipeline, not when he had seen Mikage and Yusei about to drown, not when he had watched Yusei fall into Momentum's Pit, and not when the first Earthbound God had descended onto their plane.

No, his hands had never shaken like this, vibrating from the jumping muscles in his arms and back, reacting to his darting eyes, which tried to relay what they were seeing to his frozen mind. What he had sworn to the Chief, the truth that still may have been a lie to stay on the case, was a dark haunt against seeing him alive; stumbling down the streets in the night, clear as day on his D-Wheel's screen.

Although the darkness obscured most of his face, it was easy as it had been in the interrogation room to see that Yusei was suffering. Even more so, now that he left a thin trail of blood behind him as he approached, marked arm clinging to the injured one, stumbling forward like a man sentenced to death. Whenever he looked up, there was a haze to those blue eyes that had never been there before, and he continued to beg for Aki, for the others, to know what had happened, and why, why was Ushio pointing a _gun_ at him?

It was the only constant thing in him, the weapon having been aimed so many times in his career, aimed, but never shot. The words about rights and identification left his mouth out of habit, aware that the screen was linked to the Security office, where all the troops under him would be watching.

His position said that he should pull the trigger. Yusei did not stop, barely seemed to hear him; was hardly conscious at all. Feeling the held breaths of hundreds of officers watching this scene, rushing towards the deserted intersection the blue star haunted, he became more taunt, ready to snap at the slightest movement.

_But it's Yusei… Yusei, not some criminal… Yusei can't be…_

_"Ushio, they took Aki. Ushio, is she alright? What's… what's going on?"_

He didn't know the female Signer was dead, either that or he was acting. But if he didn't know it, then he couldn't have killed her, and if the two of them were taken, then it had to be Ghost that was framing Yusei. It had to be! There was no way someone as kind and collected as Yusei could be a cold-hearted murderer who laughed in the faces of those he had slain…

They were only a crosswalk apart now, his bruised features coming into sharp focus as he passed under a streetlamp: riding suit torn, gloves gone, hair matted, and eyes completely unclear and desperate. He lowered his gun, just a hair, aiming at his feet now, posture uncoiling as the state of his friend became apparent. "Yusei!" he shouted. "Do you agree to come with me without resisting?"

_"Ushio?"_ he breathed, a slight movement in his head settling for a nod. Relief pounded through him, forcing his muscles to be lax and his gun to find its holster. Not bothering to hold back the tiny smile growing on his face, he turned to radio his men, wanting to request an ambulance for his friend, the prodigal son, when he caught movement from the corner of his eyes.

Mikage was suddenly there, coming between them as she made her way back from the coffee shop she loved so much, hands occupied with the drink. Pausing, he let his grin show as she started violently at the sight of Yusei, shouting, "It's ok, Mikage! He's agreed to come with us, I think his testimony could clear him and help us find Aki!"

She turned towards him in obvious joy, stopping in her tracks, pink mouth falling open to express it, eyes closed and relaxed, back towards the person they trusted with more than their lives.

He moved.

His arm came free, a flash of bright silver streaking out, reflecting the horror on Mikage's face as she whirled back around, the coffee falling from her hands…

And he fell to the ground with a final, dull thud.

Sounds escaped Mikage's open mouth, squeezing past the scream that was lodged in the back of her throat. Blood poured from the ground at her feet, staining her work shoes and soaking her white socks until her knees gave out. She landed hard in the puddle of crimson, the splash muddying her face and wide, staring eyes.

A thin trail of smoke leaked from the drawn gun held in Ushio's shaking hands. Of all the times he had imagined he would be forced to pull the trigger, all the training he had undergone, nothing compared to the real thing. Adrenaline pumped through his body as blood leaked from Yusei's, his muscles ached from the kick as Yusei's relaxed into death, and he had never before imagined anything so loud could be so silent.

The knife was merely a shard of metal in Yusei's hand, a make-shift weapon at best, and Mikage took great care to avoid it as she crept over his still warm body, checking for a pulse.

"He's… he's dead Ushio," she whispered. Her shoulders trembled as a sob escaped her, finally caving to the grief of what they were required to do, both knowing they could never return to that garage, and that they could never return to the part of their lives that had changed them with a smile again. Tears glistening like the weapon had and she turned to her, wiping furiously at the water, perhaps seeking condolence.

She screamed.

Suddenly there was pressure at his back: the tip of a true weapon, the cold feeling of a blade, the warmth of a body against his, the tickle of lips against his ear, and the grip of death around his heart.

"Wrong one."

Darkness rose to greet him, and with a final call of _"Ushio!"_ from Mikage, light flooded over him, dazzling his eyes.

_Is this…_ he wondered, blinking heavily under the intense bright. _Is this… death?_

"Ushio!"

He started into full wakefulness, realizing suddenly that he was in his office chair, head against his desk, and Mikage was furious. Squeezing her cell phone so hard her knuckles were white, she stormed around their newly acquired office in a tizzy, exclaiming, "How can you _sleep_ while Yusei is accused of murder and Aki's body is missing?"

Feeling foolishly frightened about the dream he had just had, it took him a moment to supply the sheepish glance, listening to the stressed woman as she continued to vent. "I called the Directors with the number Chief left me and informed them of his resigning. I told them what we had ordered, and they said that those Arcadia tapes played an hour ago! When I get my hands on that reporter I will _rip_ her head from her body!"

Used to her rant about her love rival for Jack, Ushio ignored the flares of jealously in his chest and glanced at the clock, noting its time with a groan. "Mikage, it's nearly 3 in the morning. Get some rest. We're no good to Yusei and the others if we're too exhausted to function."

She glared at him, but at the honest concern in his eyes, she relented, "Fine, but first thing in the morning, I'm going over all the evidence again and calling in the others. We have to tell them before they hear from someone else. We should also send over a squad car to protect the garage in case some vigilante comes running to kill 'allies of the Shadowhunter.'"

He nodded in agreement, picking up the phone, "I'll call Kazuma."

"Fine," she muttered. "I'll sleep in the guest rooms."

"See you in the morning, Chief."

Once the door clicked behind her and she was gone, he pulled out his gun. Feeling foolish, he checked the rounds, making sure nothing had been fired, and found the barrel still empty, the metal cool to the touch.

"That was some dream…"

* * *

**Dreamscape**

**Crow's POV**

No matter how deceptive this place was with its whispering wind and glittering sunlight, it would never bring me peace.

I knew what it was that carried me here when sleep came to call in the starless nights. I knew why that name stared up at me from the cold rock. I knew why I would never reach the cold ocean waters that would bring me relief.

It was because he had died like Pearson: suddenly, young, and without any proper explanation. And for the life of me, I couldn't figure out why he wanted it that way. Grass and graves flashed by as my feet pounded against the ground, kicking up mud and skirting around fallen petals.

With each rose that passed my vision I drove myself harder, seeking solace in the familiar symbolic plant life. With each stretch of graves that rushed past me, the sea remained further and further away, the land expanding between us. With each foot I travelled towards the shore, a flash of a smile greeted me; a turning of a head; swaying magenta hair; a little wave; the fluttering of a skirted tailcoat.

A figure suddenly strode into my path, standing from where she had crouched behind a grave, bouquet in hand. The white dress she wore bathed her in a blinding glare, casting her features into confusion as the sunlight reflected off her. I let out a surprised warning call that resembled a squawk, drawing her attention.

It was as if we existed in separate times. Hers was slow and graceful, purposeful as her gaze drifted towards me, hand reaching to brush flyaway hairs away, revealing a small black knot-like tattoo on the back of her wrist, just below the clawed red Mark of the Dragon.

My breath followed my warning. "Aki!"

She was smiling now, spreading her pale arms out wide for me, her upcoming embrace full of scars and inky lines that were becoming rapidly familiar. _"Crow."_

Her lips were moist and alive as she said my name, eyes bright and calm, as they had been when she left the garage last night. The image was so vastly different from the one I had fallen asleep on, it made something quiver within me, as if seeing her like this was like seeing my family whole again, the one and only thing I had ever truly wished for.

_"Aki!"_

I leapt into her arms.

And fell.

Suddenly there was no one standing in the path, my wide-open eyes catching only a few stray petals in her wake, and maybe a flash of amber eyes. Then I did what I had meant to all along, and I saw the ocean below me. The sudden flip of gravity had me disoriented, and I threw my arms in front of my face, the Tail Mark burning dangerously.

_"Crow!"_ her voice sounded from far behind me. There was a lingering pressure at the base of my neck as if she had reached out and brushed her fingers against my collar, trying to catch me, but it faded as I hurtled through the open air.

The waters approached: blue and dangerous, at the height of its force and full of riptides.

_Was I going to die?_

Chopped gasps forced through my lips as the wind stung my eyes and skin.

_Could anyone save me?_

My reflection screamed up at me, and soon we would grasp hands: behind me I saw her once more, white skirt kicking out behind her as her arm remained outstretched, taking the plummet with me.

_Would they?_

Movement was all around me; the swells taking a turn for the worse, crashing with might and strength that far outmatched any man.

_Was that a figure?_

He was still amongst the chaos, the only reason why he had caught my eye.

_Was that…?_ _Yusei?_

Hands in his pockets, he stared up at me as I plummeted, offering no help or friendly gaze.

_Was he… saying something?_

His lips moved urgently as I plummeted, feet standing firm on the one calm patch of sea in this torrent.

_What…? Yusei…?_

I hit the water.

Waking up submerged in sweat, I forced myself to be still and take deeps gulps of air, remembering that there were others in the garage that shouldn't come in and see this notebook before I was finished with it. The Tail Mark that had once been Yusei's was irritated and clear against my skin, giving off a weak light as if about to glow.

Yusei was crying out.

Once the hammering in my heart had settled and every blink didn't show me Aki's smiling face as I fell through her, I closed my eyes and focused. I had never been as good at this as Yusei had been; he'd fix his gaze off in the distance and block out the world, listening to the bonds through our marks like second nature, pinpointing our problems and then giving subtle nudges so we could solve them. Or Aki, who had used it to find Yusei the second he had gone missing, stopping at nothing to beat back the kidnapper's truck and save his life.

Just another mystery I guess. I'll deal with it later.

Keeping my marked arm over the book, I let myself drift towards the heat, imagining that I could reach out and touch it, the burning red changing colors softly in my mind's eye. Finally deciding on switching between silver and blue would best help me sort him out, I opened my mind to the tug of the mark, instantly regretting it.

He was alive, that much was obvious, and he was calling out for help. Not from us.

There was desperation I hadn't felt before, but had seen in his eyes when he broke down before Rudger, confessing the secrets of a guilty father and the lives he thought he had ruined. The feeling… it ran deep, churning through him with the same power of the sea I had fallen into, yet it was difficult to grasp, like a fish in a fast-flowing stream, like he was losing touch with it or giving up on it.

Neither seemed all that great.

_What're you doing Yusei?_

It built and expanded with a fluttering sensation, accompanied by the jolt of falling, and I focused harder, shifting through the confusing distance between the strong emotions and Yusei's mark. There had to be something here I could use to help him, something he was feeling that would help me get him out of this mess.

But this was Yusei for God's sake! Wasn't the fact that we couldn't understand him what got him into this situation in the first place?

_Wait—something's changing!_ The doubt, panic, and desperation slipped away softly, gliding down into nothing as a lighter player seized the stage, flooding his every sense with a presence that the heavy ones had not. This was familiar as well, but it was harder to place, because the sad thing was, the times Yusei was cold or unhappy outweighed those when he smiled.

Was he smiling then? Was this what happiness felt like to him, who's had so little?

It wasn't quite right, it was brief but definite, and happiness that profound couldn't just last for a moment could it? Come on Crow, think! There's gotta be some—

_DONG!_

I tumbled away from the thoughts and onto the hard, cold floor. "What the hell…?"

_DONG! DONG!_

The sound flooded my room, followed shortly by the familiar outcry of Zora scolding someone. Dazed at the sudden drop back into reality, I sat on the floor for a moment, crossing my legs and straining my ears to listen as Zora hollered at her son for forgetting to mute the clock during the night, not doubt waking up everyone in the neighborhood.

Before I could stop myself, I grinned. It was nice to hear someone else on the receiving end of that old maniac.

But wait—IT WAS ALREADY 3 IN THE MORNING?

Fully recovering, I leapt to my feet without making a sound, a patented trick to all thieves, and seized the small digital alarm from my bedside table, confirming the late hour. "I wasted four hours!" I hissed to myself, slapping my forehead with the itching marked arm.

That's when I noticed it: the blood had transferred onto my skin. I blinked at it for a moment or two before comprehension beat me over the head with a mallet, then jumped back onto my bed, uncaring if Bruno had made his way back and could hear the thump.

Cursing the darkness, I crossed the room with the book firmly in hand, flipping on the switch and bracing myself for what lied below. My mouth fell open.

* * *

**Third Person POV**

**Warehouse**

He had seen her weep endlessly, night after night, in her sleep and in her dreams. He had seen her rage and scream at men far more powerful; had watched her torture and nearly kill. He had seen her laugh until tears streamed down her flushed cheeks. But even this was a new sight for Mizoguchi, and in all his years as her professional butler, bodyguard, and caretaker, he wasn't exactly sure what to make of it.

After they had split that night, his Lady had returned far later than what they had agreed on, and although he had not said anything to spare her feelings, he had been fearful for his charge. Returning drenched and furious was far better than not at all, but whatever she had experienced when she liberated Fudo Yusei had set her on edge; something Yliaster had not even managed.

The way her hands skipped over the parts in her D-Wheel was not natural, and with each desperate glance she threw at the clock he saw her face become whiter and whiter. Although he would have very well liked to know what had her in such a state, she gave him nothing but a time, and if she wasn't willing to speak, he wasn't willing to push. Still, it was unnerving to see his strong Lady so afraid.

"Time," she commanded suddenly, jolting upwards and resuming her mad pacing around the warehouse. For a moment the only sound was the soft click of her riding suit's heels, the rustling of her long hair, and the screwdriver still clutched in her hands as it tapped against her deck belt where Bruno's program still resided.

It was normal for his Lady to sneak glances at their surroundings from time to time, to recheck what they had scouted, to give the new language she was speaking a quick little run through, and to pace as she pondered their next move. This skittish, frenzied stomping was nothing like the sneaky and up front approach she had taken, and he was almost reluctant to answer, "One minute."

_"Zut_," she swore softly, reverting to their native tongue, yet another warning sign. His large eyebrows creased in a genuine show of concern, and she seemed to take offense to it, turning her slight back to his familiar face and gazing out the windows towards the moon.

Remembering pity was one of the many pet peeves that composed his vengeful Lady, Mizoguchi bowed his head and turned to stare at the clock. Pretending not to see the trembling in her hands as she retrieved Stardust Dragon from her pocket, he eyed the screwdriver in the other, wondering if she was even aware that she still clutched it.

"Mizoguchi?"

_Dong! Dong! Dong!_

Releasing a string of curses directed towards the far away clock shop that had answered her question, she activated her duel disk with an abrupt jerk of her arm, the light of Momentum setting her sharp features aglow.

"He was dying when I saw him last."

Like the bullets that had vibrated through the manor all those years ago, understanding shot through his formidable form and he jerked around towards her. She had turned her back on him and the light, leaving her face in shadows in a move that would seem cold to anyone else, but he recognized it as protective.

And for the first time since he had spirited her away from her murdered parents, Sherry did something shameful and regrettable; something that she had long since sworn never to do, lest it be the end of her.

She hesitated.

* * *

**Satisfaction Town**

His eyes had twinkled. His face had been soft. His shoulders relaxed. His fingers warmed. He had smiled.

_Yusei_ had smiled.

In far much too shock to register anything else, Kiryu sat down heavily, the dull thud of his fall echoing down the abandoned mines behind him. "_Shit_," he breathed, turning his dull gaze towards his clean hands, amazed at their spotless texture, their warmth, and the hammering pulse twitching in his thumb. The grave he had dedicated to his children's father sat before him in rapture silence, the pendant that Yusei had unearthed. "_Damn_."

Curses the only words foul enough to sum up his feelings for the stubborn man, he let those pure, untainted hands run through his silver hair, shining pale blue under the early morning moon. Finding a knot to root itself, his fingers paused against the cool texture of his scalp, pushing his long bangs over his face in a desperate attempt to blind himself.

_"Fuck."_

The knife was still in his hand—the feeling still lingered, the cold metal smarting against his dry skin. Yusei was still before him, white as death with poison in his mind, but looking up at him all the same, that adoration and faith he used to have burning strong in his eyes.

And he had smiled _damn it!_

He brought both fists to his eyes, rubbing his retinas to clear them of the image, of that peaceful, reconciling look in his friends soul, the grim acknowledgement of what they had both always known would happen, but not this soon… not like this!

"Kiryu." His hands were weak, and the elder found himself steadying their fading grasp. "Thank you."

That _smile!_

"How long?" he chocked out to the mountains, his question rebounding off the canyons and into the mines. _"Shit!"_

_How long has it been since you've smiled like that Yusei?_

"When you've freed me, you have to leave. With this, you'll be safe one more day. Get Nico and West, get some…"—his lips lingered on the idle word—"rest. But a day is all I can buy you. You need to run."

Nico and West, he had to get Nico and West. Lifting his weary head, Kiryu set his sights on the small town nesting in the path of the desert sun, where he had made a new life and where his kids lay sleeping on the couch, where they had drifted off in his arms watching old American Westerns…

"Kiryu, you're out of this," Yusei growled when he had protested, something sharp and ugly rearing in his voice, "You're all Nico and West have now. Their father gave his life to protect them, relying on you to raise them. You have _responsibility_ now. Don't leave them alone too."

Satisfaction Town rested along with them, finally peaceful now that the Dyne Mines were governed by choice instead of dueling, completely unaware of the awful tragedy that he had brought in his wake. Two fingers found his way to his neck, feeling the rapid beat of an organ that had already stopped working once.

"There's a woman," Yusei insisted as his kid's name sunk in, "her name is Sherry LeBlanc, and I've given her Stardust Dragon. If you don't find her, she'll track you down herself. Be careful, she will not hesitate to kill you if she sees you as a threat. If Nico and West are there she won't act—she won't orphan any more children."

His legs were steady under him as he stood, the dust from the long dead mountains settling around his dragging pant legs. Removing his hands from his cheeks, he rested them against the dry rock, sucking in a deep breath of air, once again fully aware of how precious the simple act was. Focusing on just that, he began to make his way back down towards his town, skilled feet scaling the rock with unpracticed ease.

"Sherry Leblanc…?" he muttered to himself, tugging the harmonica that dangled from his neck out into the moonlight. It gave off a fickle gleam that was hidden by his lips, the sudden desire to pump air, and precious, valuable life, into something else overwhelming. The ghost of a haunting melody streamed over the sleeping village, each individual note falling like dust on the locked doorsteps.

"Kiryu, if you can't do this for me, I will truly die," Yusei promised, the beating of his overworked heart a steady rhythm for the ghoul's song. The sickly color of his skin and the dark ink pumping through his veins backed up the case; as if the foreign glare in his eye wasn't enough evidence. "Aki and I… we failed, just as I've failed you before. I will not fail you again, Kiryu, you are my nakama."

Softly, the final note, "Please…"

His soles padded across the flat desert surface with finality, stowing the musical weapon back inside his shirt. Pausing under the strain of the night, he sincerely wished that the shadows would overwhelm and hide his form, and that they would serve to withhold the dark truths rather than bring them out into the open where the human eye would blow them into anything it wished to. And he wished for the sun to stop setting light on the lies, on the carefully set traps and twists of whoever had put Yusei into that situation…

Whoever's fault it was that Aki was dead. Whoever's fault it was that Yusei…

"Kill me."

The tears remained unshed, and he crossed the threshold into his home, where Nico and West remained undisturbed into front of the television, sleeping on each other's shoulders, and the world was peaceful and small, everything lovely, and no one was dead.

Not yet.

* * *

**Garage **

He stared. And stared some more. Blinked a few times, glanced at his bloodied arm.

"What the heck?"

The copper feel of Yusei's long since dried blood crusted against his skin compliantly, as if it had not come away wet as liquid on a smooth tile surface. When his fingers brushed against it, they came away clean and untainted, leaving him completely bemused. Kicking the long-forgotten arm sling across his floor, Crow made his way to his small end table and grabbed a handful of tissues, occasionally shooting a glance at the image on his covers.

Aki still glared at him whenever he dared to look, although it had no effect on the half-numb sensation crawling in his skull. Once the flaky particles had been banished to the garbage can, he allowed himself to flop back on his bed and stare some more, utterly unable to process what he was looking at.

He knew he should have expected some kind of hidden message in this crazy plot—it was _Yusei_ they were dealing with—and that having a layer of thick blood covering something shouldn't be so surprising. But even he, Crow the Bullet, master of all things witty and illegal, had trouble processing what his eyes were taking in.

He followed the soft contours, the heavily detailed tail, each marking down to an exact science that only Yusei had patience for, the stray fibers fraying off the tips, the shaded sheen of crumpled plastic, the image a perfect likeness to its counterpart in the real world—yet he just couldn't accept it, couldn't place it.

Finally, it burst out from his mouth, his confusion reaching a peak too high for his short-tempered personality to whether, "What the hell is this?"

As if addressing an audience, he gestured around the room dramatically with his good arm, the other still smarting from his dive into the ocean and the stress from handling a D-Wheel. A half-hearted curse sounded from the end of the hall, along with a few death threats for disturbing the peace from a 'King,' but they went entirely unheeded by the spluttering Signer. "Is this some twisted kind of joke?"

Next to the witch in all her bristling glory, adjacent to a small etched mark that matched several others in the book, almost as a kind suggestion or complimentary afterthought, there was…

"A tampon?" he finally exclaimed, suddenly unable to touch the journal as if fearing it would infect him. The female hygiene product posed innocently on the page in response. "Why the hell would Yusei cover up a drawing of… of this? It doesn't make any—"

_"Has Yusei been acting strangely at all lately? Something that we can tie into him being replaced by Ghost?"_

_ "Well... there was this time... I don't know if it's strange by Ghost standards, but by Yusei's it was."_

_ "Oh, you mean with Izayoi."_

His mouth fell open, "Oh, you've got to be kidding me."

Moaning under the weight of the great blonde idiot, Crow's eyes crossed at the scene before him. Blocking out Jack's typically demented cries about how a King should be treated, he glanced upwards from the little pink package towards the source of the screams, his mouth hanging open.

It had already been a strange day in the garage, and hearing Aki shout followed by a loud crashing (although the latter was common in this apartment) had sent the two Signers pushing and shoving their way up the stairs. After enduring a plain weird bout of mood swings from the normally stoic Yusei, ranging from offering friendly smiles at breakfast and snarling at Leo when he carried his mother's usual "be quiet" message, the two were stressed enough.

Having their friend show any emotion was startling enough, let alone all of them in the span of twelve hours. Admittedly, they had been relieved when Aki had shown up with homework troubles, although Crow had to reign his tongue when he saw the bitter mood she was in as well, the unaccustomed, "Yusei, if you're done ignoring me and playing with your engine, I could use some help with _finishing_ _High School._"

The expected glare had only lasted for a moment, shifting quickly into something that might have been horror, before settling for the usual cold mask he wore, passing his tools to Bruno and escorting the raging psychic upstairs. That had been all of two minutes ago, and there were already the sounds of a scuffle.

Aki's sheepish face stared back in dawning horror from where she had fallen, somehow tangled in the legs of her chair and Yusei's right arm, the elder man arched awkwardly to her right, his attempt to catch her having miserably backfired. The black purse she had hefted upstairs with her Physics homework lay stern between the carnage, the heavy book crowning Yusei's head, hiding his eyes but leaving the dumbstruck expression in tact.

Completing the image and making the younger girl's rampage completely clear, the box of tampons lay on the ground, the objects spilled over the wood floor of their small living room.

Considering that he had grown up without a female friend, Crow could count the number of times he'd encountered these objects on his left hand, and the number of times he'd dreaded his girls coming of age and needing them by the hairs on his head. Having them stare him in the face, along with the slowly flushing complexion of Aki and the twitching of Yusei's mouth, triggered his unflappable escape to any situation, and he found his mouth blurting, "About time Yusei! You've been PMSing all morning!"

There was a moment of stunned silence, his shout leaving even the idiot squashing him speechless, in which Aki's hand hid her glowing face and Yusei's mouth fell open. Realizing that he probably just made the situation about ten times more awkward, his lips parted in a second attempt only to be interrupted.

It began as a strangled sort of sound as the Physics book tumbled off his head, and it echoed dully throughout the garage. They continued to stare as the noise bubbled off his lips and his eyes fell shut, his body heaving. After a pregnant pause, Aki began as well, realization dawning in her eyes as the sound doubled.

Laughter soon filled the room, the heady howls shoving Jack off his back and onto the floor in shock, the carefree sounds coming from Yusei completely foreign. The two lay doubled over into each other, clutching their stomachs as if unaware of what was happening to them, unable to stop as they grew louder and louder, tears beginning to form in the corner of their lashes.

"D-Didn't think that…" Yusei breathed out before losing the battle, submitting to the harsh laughs escaping him. Aki curled up further after his words, her fingers digging into her sides as she gasped, "There's no way…"

Biting their lips, they glanced at each other, the typical sort of hissing noise that came with suppressing cackles scraping over their lips.

"You're…?"

"And you're…?"

There was no restraint to it this time, and they were holding each other in a fashion that made it difficult to call them friends, laughing and crying into the other's shoulders, their guffaws smashing into their audience's blank faces. The change of character was so abrupt, the two Singers probably would have stared for days on end had Bruno not made his appearance, stepping over Crow carefully and taking in the scene with the bemusement of an outsider.

"Why are there tampons on the floor?"

"It's a _joke_?" Crow gaped, blinking down at the paper in confusion. "Yusei made this picture as a… the blood… raging females… tampons… a _joke? _From _Yusei_? About this kind of stuff no less—that's disgusting—what the hell?"

It had been difficult enough to accept that one of his hilarious cracks had made Yusei laugh in the first place, and now seeing this on a piece of paper, undoubtedly an inside-joke between he and Aki…

"Yusei can make a joke?" he repeated to himself, momentarily too flabbergasted to move past what it meant.

Thankfully, as it had been that day, he could rely on his socially awkward group of friends to snap him out of whatever loop Yusei was throwing him for.

"CROW!"

He barely had time to shove the book behind him before Jack threw his door open, and even then his hand felt empty air and he hurtled backwards, narrowly avoiding falling off the blankets and colliding with the floor a second time. Staying firmly at his threshold, the blonde continued, "A King does not deserve to be woken at this time by the likes of you! That damned woman's clock shop has already done the job so shut the hell up!"

Suddenly his doorway was vacant again, but the sounds of Jack's feet stomping through the hall lingered, and he felt the urge to at least throw, "Then shut your damn window _Your Highness!_" before breathing a relieved sigh, thanking heaven above that Jack's temper was short enough that he hadn't noticed what had been stolen.

There was a strange sort of pause in the towering man's retreating stomps, followed by an abrupt slamming of the door before quiet returned to the home. The lack of tentative footsteps and appearance of a meek blue-haired super mechanic's head proved that Bruno was still out and about, but Crow refused to move for a few more lingering minutes, holding his breath in case someone more observant than Jack stumbled in.

Adrenaline pounding in his head, he released the trapped air and turned around, ready to hide the book before closing his door again, pulling his arm back up. He froze.

What he had thought was the edge of his bed, the only logical explanation for his hand not finding the solid mass below him, was not what he was looking at. The Black Rose Witch's eyes seemed to gleam next to the small mark on the page as his mind was blown sky-high once again, truly beyond processing what he was seeing.

Accepting Yusei was involved somehow in this crime, that Aki was his lover, that he was the Shadowhunter, and that he could laugh and crack jokes—that was all child's play compared to this. This wasn't just breaking some personality traits; this was edging towards breaking the laws of Physics that Aki had such a hard time grasping.

This was just… impossible. Unacceptable. Unthinkable.

Yet his arm was still sticking out of the sketchbook, his hand lost in the piece of paper, fingers brushing against something as if he had dunked his arm into a tank of water.

This time, he was too shocked to scream.

* * *

**Warehouse**

Five minutes had passed and Sherry was no closer to moving. Mizoguchi sat in tense silence, his eyes completely focused on his Lady rather than the many windows of the building, which is why he missed the tall man peering in from the windows, eyes hidden behind a red-tinted visor. Forcing himself to stay quiet was no easier in this form; the woman had his only link to what was happening to Yusei, yet for some reason she refused to do whatever it was that she had been so desperately waiting for.

The program that he had given her earlier still hung from her hip, but from what he had observed, she had already begun tinkering with her engine, although he couldn't see the vehicle from his current post. He had been forced to move more than once due to Sherry's sharp and nervous eyes darting from window to window, but now she seemed completely engulfed in the task set before her, Stardust Dragon hovering an inch above her duel disk.

_Why won't you summon it?_ he wondered, his frown deepening. She had spoken to Mizoguchi a few moments earlier, but the glass was too thick to hear and the angle was wrong to read her lips. _And why do you want to?_

This windowpane had long since been shattered, and now he could hear whatever she had to say, that is, if she ever moved from her spot. Finally, Mizoguchi's evident concern overwhelmed his sense of courtesy for her, and he asked, "My Lady, are you alright?"

Sherry jolted violently, sparing him a glare that would have sent a lesser man running in fear, the tone somehow an insult to her fluxing pride. "I'm fine, Mizoguchi. Fudo Yusei won't leave me paralyzed."

As if suddenly adamant about proving her point, she slammed down the card and hollered, "Clustering hopes will become a new shining star! Become the path it's light shines upon! Synchro summon: Take flight, Stardust Dragon!"

He braced himself as the beast emerged in a dazzling display of lights and color, although the expected roar and breech of position did not come. The Signer Dragon came silently and softly, beating his enormous wings once before settling on the cement floor, his ancient golden eyes staring down at the woman who had summoned him. His claws were careful and tail still as he took in the two humans, eventually settling down into a crouch before them, guarded and watchful.

No one spoke as Sherry eyed the dragon, fists shaking from the tense muscles in her shoulders. All attention went to the shining beast and why he was here, what purpose she wanted to extract from a beautifully made hologram of a dragon from the past. Cautiously, she reached out towards its muzzle, keeping her distance but glaring at him, unafraid. She paused inches from his silver snout as if realizing that she was trying to touch an illusion, suddenly unsure once more.

"This is wired incorrectly."

The screwdriver left her hand and screeched against the metal pillar beside her D-Wheel. Bruno leaned forward in surprise, barely catching the duck of a dark head of hair and the relief that flooded Sherry's expression as a man stepped out from behind the machine, hands in his pockets.

All doubts and fear melt from the sharp woman's face when she saw him, returning to her usual aloof nature with an easy breath, "Yusei."

* * *

**Heh, I hope no one was offended by the raging PMS/women jokes in this chapter: I'm a girl and didn't feel it was too unorthodox, but I apologize if anyone was grossed out or enraged.**

**Also, Kiryu is a character I ALWAYS have trouble with, so any troubleshooting with him would be greatly appreciated. I need advice for the resident emo cowboy...  
**

**Thanks for reading as always!**

**~AxJfan**


	9. Night Terrors: Mirror

**Disclaimer: I don't own 5ds or The Mortal Instruments.**

**Hehehehe... that's all.  
**

* * *

**Night Terrors: Mirror**

**Third Person POV**

**Warehouse**

_Where is he?_ Bruno thought as he craned down to try and see his dark-haired friend. It took all his willpower to stay crouched on the windowsill instead of leaping down and appraising his missing friend in spite of the fact that 1) Dark Glass would be revealed and 2) Sherry would most likely kick his ass. Yet he couldn't find him or the reason why Sherry had suddenly exclaimed his name, nor whipped a screwdriver at thin air.

Yet beyond all the excitement and the wide grin splitting his face, he was still Dark Glass over Bruno, and the colder part of him knew this changed virtually nothing—that Yusei was still charged for murder and Aki was still dead.

Those facts dragged him down from where he had let himself float off to, and he resumed his earlier post as Sherry recovered from her own bout of relief, completely confused as to why Sherry was calling out wolf when it came to Yusei, but willing to stay in case the man actually showed.

Even if Sherry was only talking to delusions, he needed to save Yusei, and he needed that card to do it. It was his mission after all.

"You've taken the program?" Yusei asked, deeming that he had given her an appropriate amount of time to overcome her shock. He turned towards the screwdriver Sherry had used as an assault weapon and fingered the scratched metal of the walls absently, "Or did you talk Bruno into giving it to you?"

She came back to life with a smirk. "There was little talking in the matter."

Bending, he retrieved the tool and gave her a measured look, turning it over in his palm, "I can imagine." Mizoguchi took a step forward and the Signer wasted no time greeting him with a shared curt nod before the two settled next to one another, the elder brimming with questions. A quick glance in the woman's direction revealed the same, the dark embers in her eyes ablaze with the thirst for her truth.

"Yusei—"

"If you want to Accel Synchro you're going to need to finish your engine before Ghost finds you," he interrupted smoothly, settling down next to the machine with the screwdriver. As he prodded around the gears a frown formed on her face, recognizing the dismissal.

"Yusei—"

"I've called in a favor with a friend," he began again, not lifting his gaze from the circuits and his tools as he adjusted the engine, "and his actions have managed to buy us a day before they strike. We have little time to waste."

Both amused and grim, Mizoguchi took a subtle step away from the man as his lady began to seethe, the pleasant business air sucked from her personality almost instantly. He knew, having raised his lady as _his Lady,_ Sherry's ideas had always come first, and consequently, he had not once raised his voice to interrupt or ignore her in their many years together. The fact that she was enduring both simultaneously and with a man who didn't seem to give a damn that she cared about him was bound to cause some problems. Internally, he sighed as she slid into stance, and externally he cringed with sympathy for the man about to be interrogated.

His back was turned. It was almost too easy.

Her fist split the air between them, making contact with an open palm. Sapphire eyes peered over at her, disinterested in the force in their emerald counterparts. "You should know better."

At those words, the shadows seemed to thicken around them, Mizoguchi melting into the darkness and a highly confused Bruno vanishing behind his pane of glass, the world hanging in eerie silence, watchful of the two as they slowly stood, connected by the stains on their hands. Their souls were the loudest, their breaths the only purpose of air, and their minds the only reason for thought.

Monotones and grays sulked in abundance, their dull, dank grasp yielding only to the bright contrast in their jeweled eyes and golden streaks of hair, startling and frightening to behold in the dark: a skip in their shared heartbeat.

_I should know better?_ she roared, crafting her usual glare over the rage swelling behind her ribs. Twirling out like a viper, her leg smashed into the side of his extended arm, connecting with the blocking Head Mark. _I have every right to lash out—I am seeking justice! I am following truth! I'm avenging murder!_

Momentum wouldn't allow her to retreat, so her next leg followed, feet parting the ground with no reluctance. As he ducked her kick sailed over his head, brushing against his orderly hair as her now freed hand palmed the concrete below. Wind plastered against her face as they spun, commanding her hand as it caught hold of rigid shoulder guards, and for a moment, she was soaring, her fingers barely brushing the ground as she spun, the world of speed opening up to her.

They landed. She was quick to spring back up, but came to an almost unconscious halt as a new sound became known: the whisper of falling fabric. The feeling of it still lingered in her fingers as it fluttered between them, torn from his back by the force of her swipe: the first causality in the battle.

At the sight of his flesh, exposed and bold, her poise straightened, feet settling in a natural position. Her vision lingered on the strange silver scars littering his muscled arms, noting the dominating black patterns that could be, but weren't, tattoos with great interest.

"So those are the marks of a killer?"

He too straightened, though his back was stiff and hands by his side, nearly an invitation. The only indication that he had heard her was the tightness around his lips, accompanied by a flash as his eyes caught the weak light.

Smirking, Sherry crossed her arms in victory, sensing that although he had her bested physically, she knew how to hit him harder without exchanging blows. His mind, although incredible, complex, and hidden, was his one true Achilles' heel.

The shadows that fell across his face reminded her that it was the same for her, and he was not afraid to wield that weapon as well. The smirk faded into a bitter grin as she leaned against her D-Wheel, the light tone in her voice loaded with malice.

"So you won't deny it?" Again, he forced the silence to stretch, the set of his shoulders practically shouting her hypocrisy. Softly, and with no amount of pleasure, she admitted, "You're among company."

He opened a mouth, appeased by her resentful confession. "I've only ever killed two people—in the Dark Signer war."

_Caught you._

"Then I wonder who you don't consider to be a person: Kiryu, Rudger, or Goodwin?"

All sense of fair play vanished from his features, and she knew she had accomplished what very few could: catching him off guard. While he wrestled with the rope she had thrown him, Sherry plowed on in slow confidence, watching him squirm as she called out his own flaws. "The vermin _I've_ eliminated were high in Yliaster, Yusei. How can you lecture me about forgiveness when you still hate the man who killed _your_ parents?"

_You can't back me into a corner. What will you do now that I know you're not perfect? What will you show me now?_

An even stronger mask, it would seem. From somewhere in her words he fished out a flaw and hooked it deep, yanking it up into open air with the calm correction, "Sherry, our goals may be the same but our methods are different."

He swept up the jacket and dusted it off methodically before returning it to its proper place, hiding the exposed lie he bore in his skin and under his shirt. Each was painfully aware of the other's gaze, intelligent enough and too familiar with lies to see any move as casual. She recognized he was hiding the marks in shame, and he knew she saw it.

"I see no difference in the end result," she prodded, eyes lingering on the cuffs of his sleeves. It seemed to take him a great effort not to hitch them up or reach for the leather gloves he had discarded, and even more to finish his next strategy.

"I hate Rudger; that much is true," he allowed, making a conscious effort to keep his hands loose. "I've never hated more powerfully than what I feel for that man, and I cannot forgive him, even in spite of what he and his brother did for us at the end of the Signer war. But I didn't kill him out of hatred, although I can't deny that I enjoyed it. I defeated him for those I loved and so that he could never bring harm to them or another human ever again. He didn't die for revengeor justice. He died because of circumstance."

"Who are you to say what it is?" Somewhere in that last statement he had crossed a line of hers, and she was barely aware that she had shouted. "People who are evil—who've done crimes that make then less than human, who've destroyed families, killed for entertainment—they deserve to die. That is vengeance—that is justice!"

"If it's just, then what will you do once Yliaster's taken down? Will you be satisfied with your actions?"

Her lips parted to reply, but the words would not come. The future had always been Yliaster, and beyond that was unthinkable. Cold settled in her windpipe and oozed down into her lungs, the discomfort showing in her troubled brow.

"That's how I know," he whispered. "Rudger has atoned for his sins by my hands, and he nearly took me down with him. But because he died for love rather than hate, it was easier to move on from it. I still hate him, but it doesn't control my life. You're obsessed. It has taken hold of you and destroying it will only destroy you."

Though his tone was gentle and non-accusatory, it only served to raise her defenses, knowing the soft purr was far more persuasive than the angry shouts of madmen. She appraised him once more, acknowledging the fact that he was as powerful as she was in this, and to win she would have to resort to low blows as well. He had already drawn a reaction from her, and she would not let him go on pretending to be beyond emotion and humanity.

Holding her head high like her mother used to, she formed her condescension with an indifferent glare, adding a hint of drawl to her voice, "You've moved on then, _Shadowhunter_?"

Distinctly, his upper lip twitched. "You shouldn't speak of things you don't understand."

_Bingo_, she smirked, feeling the world draw closer once more now that they both found where to hit. "I understand perfectly. You're like me; you'll cut down anyone who is in your way."

The reaction was worth admitting her own monstrosities—with the exception that she knew her murders were justified—there was no crime in killing killers. Smashing one mask entirely, she was confronted with the cruel face of the Shadowhunter covering Yusei's shining eyes, a defense she had a feeling was rarely triggered at all.

No words escaped him as the world held its breath and Sherry smirked, proving the conflict she had created between his two faces and what lies beneath them. Finally, he seemed to decide he couldn't refute the claim but could accuse it, asking quietly, "Is that what you think of me?"

_You're mine, Yusei._

"Yes," she replied instead, enjoying the miniscule wince in his features that very few would catch. The vague sense of warmth spreading through her seemed to thaw the ice he had slammed her with, knowing that she was in control remedying any poison his words had left. "You are the Shadowhunter, and even while you're Yusei you still enjoyed killing someone you hated. You may hide behind the two masks, but your true nature is like mine: manipulative, unsatisfied, justified, and cold. The only difference is you're afraid of it."

Silence.

The shadow of a frown ghosted on her gloating face as she searched for another reaction. If she was to truly gain control over him and have him on her side, she needed him to shout, to be livid, to release his idealistic ideas and give into the cold reality she had long since accepted. Submission, order, and understanding: that was all she needed from him.

"It's true I don't know what you were doing exactly as the Shadowhunter, but don't accuse me of not understanding why you do it. Yliaster killed both of our parents, we're both searching for the truth and closure, and both of us have blood on our hands—whatever the reason. Isn't that why you left Stardust Dragon to me instead of the Signers?"

The gleam in her eyes held it all, accompanied by the unmistakable: _I've won._

Yet he was back as the last word left her mouth, the Head Signer look covering any doubts she had brought to the surface. Gaining the heavy guise of wisdom and painful truth, he played the role with simple mastery. "No, that's not the reason Sherry."

Frustration seeped into her scowl at the robotic voice, the absolute devoid of emotion goading her in a way that left her cheeks raw and inflamed. "Then what is—did you want to stop me from getting what we both need? Did you think you could?" she spat, hating the detachment he had from his mistakes, the refusal to accept he was wrong—the childish, weak, pathetic _lies_ he told the world to keep himself looking sane.

The pointedly obvious glance and clichéd response proved enough, the words a taunt behind his sincere face, "I wanted to save you."

"I thought you couldn't save anyone," she snapped. The reaction was immediate and short, a helpless sort of jerk towards his Signer Mark that connected him to Aki, who he had failed in some way. His refusal to speak about it made it painfully clear, yet she knew straying in that area would be pushing him too far and would perhaps even make an enemy out of him.

Yusei had to be engaged, left dangling. He needed to be presented a problem to be solved, and the hints gained through his own prodding, or at least, she needed to make it seem that way. He would not be like Mizoguchi, who followed her blindly out of love. She needed to destroy the 'better than thou' notions he held about justice and give him someone else to save if she was to keep him by _her_ side.

Sherry would not end up being by _his._ She was lead by no man.

"I don't need to be saved. I'm fine if I lose my life taking down Yliaster because it's all that I have. I don't need forgiveness or kindness or love from anyone so long as I have Z-One and my family's memories."

He cocked his head to the side slightly, a narrowing in his eyes betraying the buried thoughts hiding in his dark eyes. "If you have no intention of living, how are you any better than those you hunt? Are you content with being a killing machine and dying as such?"

_I'll die a hero, not a machine!_ she snarled, but countered, "Are you?"

His back faced her, and he retrieved the screwdriver from where he had dropped it. The illusion that the world revolved around them fell away, reasserting with the typical sounds of the city at night, police sirens going off, D-Wheel engines roaring, and nightly people shouting in drunken stupors. Recognizing the stalemate, she straightened as well, settling in front of her engine before he could.

It was the simplest way to continue to challenge him and let him know that the war was still raging, that she would go over everything he said and pick it apart, and that he would do the same. Mizoguchi approached from behind them, studying as Yusei picked at the gears and swiped the program from her belt without permission, earning a heavy glare and a sharp blow from her elbow.

When the tinkering of metal became too tedious to sustain the hostile air that radiated from the wounded woman's pride, he stopped and placed his hands on his knees, observing her with the eyes she was coming to hate.

"I won't be a pawn under you Sherry," he warned, and Stardust Dragon let out a throaty growl in agreement, causing her caretaker to jump in alarm. "And you will come to realize that our similarities are what you hate, not our differences. I do not want to become your enemy."

"Then don't cross me," she replied, mimicking his low tone. Yet where his words were soft and pleasant, hers were sharp and threatening, each persuasive in their own right. "I may not want you to oppose me, but I'm won't hesitate to take you down."

"Is that your justice?" he asked suddenly, turning away as if he didn't care about her reaction. "At what point does eliminating villains and those who oppose you turn to innocent lives? You do realize that is the pattern of a serial killer, correct?"

"You're one to talk," she shot back before her muscles could throw a punch. The verbal blow almost seemed to bounce off of him and she was confronted with the theory that he was barely human once more, wondering how far he had distanced himself from the world to get into such a state. And how far she would have to tread to find him.

_What are you, Fudo Yusei?_

"There _is_ something you need from me," he piped up, completely disregarding the road their conversation was hurtling down.

"What? _Bonds_?"

If the sneer bothered him, he did a marvelous job of hiding it. He did not chose to answer, settling for linking her bike with the sleeping laptop and starting the program, running through the matrix idly, keeping his back to her the entire time. Mastering her emotions grew more difficult the longer he ignored her, and she was wringing the screwdriver once again when the clock struck 4 in the morning.

He obviously had no intention of answering and she of asking again.

Mizoguchi watched the display with curiosity from afar, noting that Stardust Dragon did the same. His lady was exerting far more effort into acting civil and forcing Yusei to be the villain than she had even Yliaster.

She was trying her damndest to mold Yusei into something he couldn't be, and he couldn't fathom why…

His eyes widened in realization before smoothing out, certain that the blue edition to their team had caught it and smiled a little. If what he thought was true, it certainly explained all the behavior, including the anxious way she had approached summoning the Signer Dragon.

Sherry was afraid of him. Truly terrified, and she felt powerless because of it.

But why? At first she must have been afraid that if she summoned Stardust Dragon he wouldn't come—that he had been killed by Yliaster under her nose like her parents. That much was obvious at this point. Was the fact that he represented everything that she failed at what frightened her? Or was it as he said—what was eerily similar put her on edge?

He eyed Yusei warily, wondering which way the man would lead. _Sherry couldn't become much worse, but I don't trust this man's intentions if he were to fall more. The Shadowhunter is assumed to be a demon, and Yusei does hide behind the façade of an angel…_

_Like Yliaster. Like Ghost._

"My Lady," he asked suddenly. The two started violently, having completely forgotten about him as they became lost in the new engine program, reluctantly (on his Lady's part) working together. Yusei eyed him with far more suspicion than he did the young heiress, heightening his own sense of unease. Usually the enemies disregarded him as a pawn once they had dealt with Sherry, but clearly Yusei was not as ignorant.

Nothing escaped those guarded eyes: he knew that Mizoguchi was the one to catch the little details that Sherry's arrogance would disregard, and he saw the danger that the man was about to pose him.

"Yes, Mizoguchi?" Sherry was on the offensive once more; knowing he only spoke up in dire situations and that he had pounced on a loose end her personal villain had left.

"May I see Stardust Dragon's card?" he asked, shifting his gaze to Yusei's face. "We haven't checked to see if it's fake. He could be Ghost."

The suggestion sent him rigid where the accusations of murder hadn't. Sherry's grin returned along with the lofty air of superiority, her crown regained. She did not move from his side however, that would suggest he was something to fear, something she would never admit.

He grabbed her hand when she went for the card, Stardust Dragon flaring out his wings in warning.

"What's wrong, Ghost?" she leered, the miniscule rations of light catching the cruelty in her expression. "Afraid of being exposed?"

The skin seemed to hang off his face, leaving his cheeks hallow and his eyes haunted, suddenly two dark pits that seemed to haunt him down to his weary soul. "No," he sighed, but his fingers shook briefly in betrayal.

His hand remained on her wrist, but she was intrigued enough to allow it, and that interest was apparently too much for him to look at, because he soon averted his attention to the moon, just barely missing a figure ducking hastily behind the window panes as Sherry followed his line of vision. "I was hoping that I wouldn't have to tell you so early, because I know you won't take it well."

A few quick blinks rid her face of confusion and halted the steady advance of Mizoguchi. "So you're admitting it?" Then, as if suddenly realizing that he had once again insulted her, she snapped, "And I can handle more than you think. I _knew_ my parents when they died and I _saw_ their bloodied bodies, unlike you."—anger sent her claws away from the card and to his face, yanking him around to face her—"I'm stronger than you."

Unease seemed to spread from his mind like a cancer, darkening the ocean churning in his eyes. "I'm not Ghost Sherry."—there was a moment of hesitation where he tried to look away, but caught himself—"But if you remove that card I will certainly disappear like one."

Opening and closing her eyes brought no clarity this time, and he sighed, the sudden emotion gracing his face nearly overwhelming her. It was close to sadness, she could tell that much, but did sorrow weigh someone's shoulders down like that? Did it suck what little spark of life he showed out of existence? Did it hang off someone's skin like an infection?

He released her and brought his hand to his collar. There was yet another moment of hesitation, and then finally he gave her the truth she hadn't been digging for, the one she had dreaded. "The favor I called in; it came with a price."

He pulled down the collar.

The only sound that followed was a startled cry from the eldest man before Sherry scuffled backwards, arms dangling loosely at her sides. Mouth hanging, she turned smartly on her heels and dashed from the room, lest that man see any weakness on her face.

"My Lady!" She recognized the call like a faint echo, throwing the warehouse doors open carelessly, exposing the fugitive and gleaming dragon to anyone who bothered to walk by, making her way to the harbor behind them in a stumbling, undignified dash.

Falling to her hands and knees, her reflection registered in the surf, eyes wide and weak, trembling as if she were going to fall victim to the unforgivable and cry. The images she had provoked and he had backed surfaced within and before her like vengeful spirits, the smell of death and gunpowder no longer a soothing lullaby to her vendetta against Yliaster. Suppressing something that would have once been a sob, but was now a scream, she clutched her stomach and vomited, shamed but alone in the dark, the only way she would have it.

Across the city, in a room that was as small at the warehouse felt to the two occupants and the completely confused observer, Crow fought the urge to do the very same thing.

"The hell?" he repeated for the nth time. He was in the same position he had been an hour ago, when he awoke to the clock striking three, staring down at his missing appendage with little comprehension. To say his mind was blown was an understatement.

_My arm is in the sketchbook. My arm is in the sketchbook! What the hell, what the hell, what the hell…?_

He wiggled his fingers again, checking for the thousandth time that they were still there. They were sluggish to respond, moving heavily through the paper and brushing against something that crinkled like plastic. Taking several deep breaths, he muttered, "Ok, Crow. You've dealt with a zombie apocalypse, Zero Reverse, Ghost, duel gangs, Security, the WRGP, and a group of evil, vicious little kids. You're dealing with Yusei now. It's ok, there's some kind of logical explanation to why your hand is inside of a piece of paper. Perfectly logical. Nothing out of the ordinary in the life of a Signer."

"Who the hell and I kidding?" he burst out finally, the long repressed hysterical note creeping into his voice. "My effing arm is in an effing book! I knew these things were evil!"

Several breaths shot in and out of his nose as his muscles tensed in a vain attempt to relieve the prickling feeling running up and down them. "T-That's right, see Crow, you must still be dreaming! That's why your arm is asleep… then you just have to pull this out slowly and you'll wake up. See? Perfectly logical."

He paused. "God, if I keep talking to myself I'll turn into Jack. Now _that'd_ be scary."

Gingerly, he began to pull the appendage upwards, staring as the page rippled like a puddle being stomped in. The Mark was tingling like a thousand needles were square dancing across its surface, the feeling having nothing to do with his arm being asleep. When the air collided with the skin it felt cold and uncomfortable, like this world was the unnatural thing in this mess.

"Nice and easy," he repeated to himself. He could see his wrist now, then the back of his hands, and finally, his fingers. The next few minutes were spent waving, flexing, and wiggling it to make sure they were still working. "Ok," he breathed, nudging the page with his knee, "it's over. Now I just need to wake up."

"That should be easy! You're keeping the rest of us up!" roared the King from his hiding hole down the hall.

For once, he completely ignored the irritating blonde, settling down further in his sheets. The open door behind him was a little unsettling, but he felt the irrational fear that if he turned his back on the journal it would start to fly around and suck him in completely.

"It's just a book!" he hissed to himself, rubbing his eyes furiously to erase the Witch's image from his retinas. "Geez, maybe crazy_ is_ contagious! I must be more tired than I thought… some sleep should help. Yeah," he decided with a firm nod. "I must have just been half-asleep. It's four in the morning after all and I've been up all night…"

Resigned on the idea that sleep was what was best for him if he was hallucinating a notebook munching on his arm, he reluctantly slid under the covers, minding his smarting arm. Wary in spite of his best efforts to squash his fears, Crow settled for nudging the book with his toe until it fell to the floor away from the door, so it wouldn't sneak up on him and he'd wake up in the morning missing a leg.

"Idiot," he told himself as the light thud set Jack off again. "This is stupid. It's just a book, nothing to be afraid of!"

Yet he continued to lay there, every nerve alight with itching. _Screw it! I suck with impulses anyways!_

And he was on the ground again, tearing through the pages until he found the bloodied one. "No turning back now," he supposed grimly. Unsure why, he gulped in air and thrust his hand downwards. Finding no resistance, his hand hurtled through the paper flawlessly and his fingers found the object within as soon as they parted with reality.

He grabbed it and pulled.

A little too much actually, as the next thing he knew his butt was greeting the floor like a close friend. A curse blew out of him, half from pain, the other from nerves. Light pink plastic crinkled in his sweaty palms, the only sign of his success as he stared at the object.

Somehow, he was still surprised. Mouth snapping closed from the perfect 'o,' his brow furrowed and lips tightened, unsure of whether to laugh or cry.

Deciding to choke on both, he spat out harshly, "So this is the infamous tampon, then?"

Yielding to sudden razing anger, he threw the vile thing back at the book on the bed, where it morphed back into the page without a sound. He was standing, and the journal was there, the only lead in this mess besides disembodied voices, faint memories of lost satisfaction, and the trail of crimson history that seemed to laugh at the marks that bound them all together. And what did he find when he let himself trust that Yusei had engineered someway to make this possible, that there was still some proof that he was innocent, and that Aki's death wouldn't be in vain?

What did he have to show for that?

A bloody tampon?

And then he was chuckling at himself—_a bloody tampon? Really, Crow?_—which spiraled out of control, contorting to hysterical cackles and guffaws that echoed down the halls and had his shaking arms on the bed, had him kneeling before his friend's wretched _joke_; at least before the tears came, finally claiming him as the true volume hanging over his head pressed down.

_Aki is dead, Yusei's missing, and I find—is this all some sick joke to them?_

The emotionally betrayal assaulted his lashes with burning sobs, squeezing his throat until he could barely breath. It was all he could do to toss his abandoned duel-disk at the door to close it before it overwhelmed him, bathing the room in dark shades of blue as he ripped through the sketches, searching with blurry eyes for the symbol that had dominated Aki's page.

_What are we to him anyway—his friends, his nakama, his brothers? Then why didn't he even have the decency to tell us about he and Aki?_

His hand plunged in and out, ripping objects and artifacts from their home with reckless abandon, hardly even glancing at what he was holding. If the other heard the clanging in his room and the loud hiccups of cries, they ignored it, whether for their own sanity or his privacy was debatable.

_Why the hell did he lie to us? Weren't we good enough for him? Didn't we _care_ enough? _

The thieving instinct embedded in his mind kept his hands moving, the peculiar way he read allowed his eyes to pick up the symbol no matter how cleverly it was concealed. Clary and Fudo Isabel's belongings made two haphazard piles on his floor before he turned towards Yusei again, teeth set in a vicious scowl.

_He didn't even try!_

"Damn it Yusei!" he shouted, flinging the cover back and scoring through the engine designs, pulling a headband out of Kiryu's picture, a tiny drinking glass from the red-haired woman's, a cross necklace from the Spanish boy's, and shoving his entire arm in the image of their misguided little team and came up—

With a cracked plate.

The sight of it jarred him for a moment or two, leaving the abused evidence forgotten on his covers. Hadn't Martha tossed this out after she had made sure Yusei wouldn't go and die on them?

"He found it?" he muttered. "And fixed it?"

The pale cream ceramic plate did show the meticulous signs of Yusei's handiwork, the cracks so thin they could have been mistaken as some kind of artistic flair in the design. There was even the dull red stain on the outmost piece that had sliced him when he passed out.

Unconscious to itself, his hand touched the Security Marker it had predicted and the thin pink scar it had left behind. Actually, he didn't think Yusei had even seen the scar—he'd gotten the new mark a handful of days before he regained consciousness, hardly a week after he had gone down and Kiryu had died. Emotions always ruled his actions, and with the double blow, especially because he was still smarting over Pearson's death—

_Yusei collapsed. Kiryu's death. Jack's rambling._

He sat up very quickly, hands flying over the surface of the ceramic. _Yusei collapsed when Kiryu died? And Jack noticed, somehow thought they were connected, confronted Yusei about it… and that caused their fight? Just Jack accusing him of knowing when Kiryu died?_

"But how could Yusei have known in the first place? This was before the Signer business!" he questioned himself, propping the plate on his lap when his grip began dangerously tight. "And it's not like he passed out the second time or got sick when Jack was thrown off the bridge by Ghost…"

_But Yusei looked like he was going to keel over in the interrogation room, and he _did_ when Aki died…_

"And they think Aki is the Shadowhunter's partner!" he growled to himself, staring long and hard at the bloodstained plate that echoed her picture. "So does that mean Kiryu…?"

"I can't Kiryu."

"Crow, back off, it's between Yusei and me."

"You ran into Team Magician and didn't save a piece for us?"

"What are they doing together Jack?"

"Yusei, it's the middle of the night—where are you?"

"You just nearly died Yusei—I can't let you go out!"

"I don't have a choice Crow. I have to know."

"Is it because he was our leader? That you stayed with him the longest? You can't fix this Yusei! Kiryu's insane and you're sick, I can't let you go!"

"Your right Crow, I can't fix it. I can't save him."

"Then what the hell are you doing sneaking out in the middle of the night, _again?_ Like you always did with Kiryu?"

"Getting closure."

"It's your fault that I died, Yusei! We were going to take down Security who opposed us and free the Satellite!"

"Rot in hell, Yusei!"

He felt like Jack had just punched him: breathless and beyond fury. "It _was_ Kiryu!"

Any feelings he had mended with the elusive Satisfaction leader evaporated with the realization, leaving him with far too much energy to just sit on the bed amongst piles of useless objects. He leapt off the covers as if they had electrocuted him, grabbing the plate in reflex, giving into the frenzied pacing that was banging in his skull.

_Did Kiryu trick Yusei into starting this Shadowhunter stuff like he tricked us with Team Satisfaction's true goals? Was Yusei too far in to get out when Security came? Or did he go along with Kiryu to try and stop him, like how he hung around with him after Jack and I left?_

He heard the bang of the front door opening and the creaks of Bruno settling down into his pull out bed, but ignored it, letting his feet catch up to his thoughts._ He must have felt guilty that he couldn't stop Kiryu, which is why he tried to save him from Security… or did he think he somehow encouraged Kiryu? _

"YOU TRAITOR!"

Crow came to a crashing halt once more, the shout ringing as clearly as it had a year ago when Kiryu had tried to kill Yusei the first time. _What if…?_

"Yusei actually _did_ betray him?" he whispered. The plate slipped from his lax fingers, falling on a pillow he had kicked off in his sleep. It went unnoticed in the storm of his flipped world, several thoughts colliding and everything he had through to be true about Team Satisfaction disintegrating.

"He got in too deep with Kiryu," he informed the empty room. "He knew Kiryu had to be stopped, that he was going insane. Yusei was the one to catch him and drag him back to the base—he knew where he would be. Security followed us at every turn. And they knew Yusei wasn't the leader when he tried to confess for Kiryu… was he trying to throw suspicion off himself?"

_"Living with guilt is not something that is new to me and I welcome more if it means that I can protect the bonds with my nakama."_

"But there's no way Yusei would betray one of us!" he hastily corrected himself, coming to a dead halt and staring wistfully out the window. "He would never—!"

But he found his own tongue choking the denials from slipping past his lips. "He wouldn't _what?_" he snapped, glaring at the moon as it made its lonesome trek across the sky, dimming the light of the few straggling stars. "Wouldn't _lie _to us? Wouldn't _pretend_ to be someone? Wouldn't _abandon _us? Wouldn't. Fucking. _Trust_ us? His brothers! Who's to say he didn't play Kiryu like that—who's to say that he didn't take over whatever the hell they were up to?"

He seized the plate from where it had fallen and glared at it, baring his teeth and seething as if it could answer his unasked question behind all the bitterness. Throat tight and ears pounding, he hurled the ceramic across the room and watched with bridled satisfaction as it smashed against the wall, erasing any petty call for forgiveness that Yusei had uttered before he broke it the first time.

"Besides, Aki wouldn't be involved if Yusei didn't start whatever it was Kiryu did again! Yusei wouldn't vanish off the chart for days at a time! Aki wouldn't be _dead_ if Yusei had—_IF HE HAD_—!"

The will to stand suddenly left him, and he flopped hard in the remains of the plate, holding his heavily marked face in his hands. With what little willpower his shaking body still had, he let his eyes glaze over the destruction he had wrought: the upturned pillows and blankets, the askew alarm clock, the chunks of clay covering the floor, and the white fluorescent glow of the journal's pages.

For if he did that, he could go on like he always did and ignore everything coursing through him, he could just pretend that he hadn't destroyed what little hope he still had that Yusei was innocent and that he hadn't caused Aki's death, and that Aki somehow was alive, that her missing body wasn't just another string on the line of crimes committed by the Shadowhunter, but a mark of a Ghost attack…

Releasing his face, he sifted through the debris, not at all surprised to find folded messages hidden between the two thin layers. He lifted one absently and read in Yusei's precise chicken-scratch handwriting with a simple message, always his last plea…

_How can they love someone like me, Kiryu? How can I tell them I'm sorry?_

"If _I _had…"

Dark moist blotches stained the paper.

* * *

**First Person POV**

**Jack**

_Damn it Crow!  
_

That idiot needs to shut the hell up!

Beyond even frustration at this point, I settled for lying tersely on my bed, closing my eyes to what was happening to the red-bombshell and pretending to be momentarily deaf as a handful of choked sobs echoed down the hallway. It was useless trying to sleep tonight anyway, I had long since recognized that those two peasants wouldn't be able to rest in this garage while my rival was out on one of his self-destructive binges.

It wasn't long before I started to hear the sounds of things breaking, which jumped a vein in my temples. _The little shit complains that all I do is waste his money, yet he's the one who breaks things! At least I buy what is necessary for a King, not waste what we have!_

But I didn't get up and knock some sense into him, although a deep, emotionally scaring beating is what that idiot deserved for the ruckus he was causing. However, doing that would be emphasizing, and that would be admitting that something was wrong, and that I was acting like a homicidal maniac just because Ghost hijacked the mechanical marvel's identity for a while.

So what, Security found a journal with gibberish written on it. They also thought that I, Jack Atlas, was a murderer, didn't they? This was obviously just Yliaster's attempt to up the game now that their ace in the hole had been discovered. And what better way to do it than defaming the man who ousted them? Anyone would have to be a numbskull to believe what Yusei was saying if he approached them on the street with a title as ridiculous as "The Shadowhunter" blazing over his head.

It was ridiculous—those idiots seemed to have forgotten that they had seen Yusei without his shirt on several occasions, and that the only marks on his skin were the many scars on his hands from working with machines, the angry mark from Kiryu's duel across his stomach, his Crimson Dragon mark, and the star-shaped birthmark on his shoulder. There were no silver lines or black tattoos anywhere on the man!

And quite suddenly, it was quiet again. The tantrum down the hall seemed to be over, but now an entirely different sort of attack assaulted me: the open window and the breeze playing through the curtains. Scowling at the dark, empty world beyond, I drew myself up and headed out into the hall, passing Crow's door with no hesitation, knowing he'd make his way out eventually on his own, and grabbed a cup from the kitchen.

Honestly, was the King of this household the only man as well?

_"Why are you afraid, Jack?" _

With just as much force as necessary, I slammed my plastic cup on the counter before turning smartly on my heels and opening the refrigerator, bathing the small kitchen in fake light. Ignoring the slight shake in my grip as I tugged out some chilled water, my frown gained a few teeth and became a snarl.

Jack Atlas is afraid of nothing, and there is nothing to be afraid of.

If these spineless cowards needed someone to remind them that their world didn't end with the fate of one self-sacrificing bleeding heart who was lucky to have made it to 19, I'd damn well show them myself. Dreams were just that and nothing would come of them.

"Crow?"

I jerked around at the sound of Bruno's soft footsteps, immediately targeting him with my sneer for such an insult. He balked at the sight of me and backed down, although what I saw in his face wasn't exactly expected. "Sorry Jack!" he immediately corrected, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly as if the motion would hide the bizarrely out-of-place handprint on the side of his face.

I opened my mouth to demand answers, thought better, and returned to filling my glass. Yusei's _partner_ would have to wait if he wanted anything from me. Bruno sat down abruptly to please the quiet, scraping the chair across the kitchen floor with a wince. "I just heard something err… breaking from his room and wanted to see if he was… ok?"

Not answering seemed like the best way to show I didn't care. Such a stain in my life didn't deserve acknowledgement. Awkward silence (for him) followed my thought as I sipped my drink and he fiddled with his hands, occasionally shooting worried glances at the door down the hall.

"Jack?" he tentatively wondered.

"What?" I snapped, glaring at him over the top of my glass.

Fingers twirling around each other, he wondered, "Do you ever think that—?"

Crow's door opened, and he lost his question immediately. "Crow!"

Caught between being grateful that I didn't have to deal with his stupidity and annoyed at being ignored in favor of my friend, I turned my attention towards whatever he was clutching so I could decide my revenge later. My eyes rolled the moment I saw it and I tossed my cup into the sink. "Does it need to be chained down for you to not steal it?"

"Steal…?" Bruno inquired, eyes drifting from Crow's puffy face (honestly, Jack Atlas' friends needed to show a scrap of dignity!) towards the journal in his hands. "Crow! You shouldn't have done that!"

"Old news," he shrugged, opening the fridge for some water. He grabbed the empty picture and shot me a pointed glare, along with the casual insult, "Lazy Jack-Ass."

I considered the usual playground responses that usually had him biting back, but decided, "Kleptomaniac."

"I'll get it!" Bruno intervened, closing the space between us as if we really had been about to fight it out. Did this moron learn nothing in all these months he spent here? If Yusei were here—

I let the thought die quickly and painfully as Crow caught sight of Bruno's face. "Whoa, what happened to you?"

The super mechanic blinked a handful of times before flushing to a point where the handprint was no longer visible. "Uh, I…"—he was back to fumbling with his hands—"I walked out to the beach where Officers Ushio and Mikage found me and… erm…"—if possible, his face grew redder and he hid his eyes—"there were a few girls there uh… skinny dipping."

Crow bought the story with a sympathetic wince and returned to filling the pitcher and putting it in the fridge, shooting me a pointed look, which I dutifully ignored. Everyday tasks were below a King.

I, however, was more suspicious, being the only one in this garage not blinded by his brilliance. Honestly, after we encounter Ghost a man with no memory shows up who just happens to know how to build an engine capable of withstanding Accel Synchro? And although I didn't doubt the fact that a few girls could overpower him, it was just that, _a few girls_. Not one with enough power to leave a mark that would last for the half-hour walk it was from here to the beach.

And who was strong enough to give something like that? Only one woman came to mind.

When I opened my mouth to say so, the birdbrain rudely interrupted. "Well, as surprising as Bruno being a pervert is, I have something a bit more."

The blue-haired man's head popped up in embarrassed indignation, but fell back when he saw the serious look in Crow's gray eyes, probably his first time. Admittedly, the sight was still unsettling even to me, the King, which was perfectly acceptable when your jester suddenly burst into tears, smashed pieces of your kingdom, and then decided to screw with his betters.

The book plopped open and he flipped through it, landing on a rather gruesome painting of Izayoi after several engine sketches. There was a bizarre looking symbol traced in the back of it that made the skin around my Mark crawl. Deciding I didn't like it, I turned and glared at Crow for a proper explanation.

The ginger was staring down at the image instead, hovering his right arm over it uncertainly before laughing out, "I've got to be crazy."

"Yes, we know," I shot snarky, but he ignored me completely.

"That's nice Jack," was all he said before closing his eyes and throwing us all into his completely nonsensical dreamland. Now convinced more than ever that insanity was a contagious disease after all, I blinked a few hundred times to rid myself of the image before me, especially the absolutely demented grin on my friend's normally gleeful face.

"Remember when I said we didn't understand Yusei, Jack?"

His hand was _inside_ the sketchbook. How the _hell _was this…?

"Well, I was right."

He pulled. Bruno and I stared, transfixed, at the item held high and the smug sorrow flashing across his face. Then I was back to myself, flooded with justified anger that was too great to keep me chained to the countertop that acted as my throne. _"Is this some kind of joke?"_

Echoing tapes I would watch later and seethe over, he lost the freakish face and replied, "I'm not laughing." Light gray eyes dancing between us and back towards the small object in his hands (making sure we saw it too?) he added softly, "Are you?"

"Are we dreaming?" Bruno injected, still dazed. The blow to the face must have drained him of some IQ points after all. A strangled sort of chuckle escaped Crow, and he declared, "If this were a dream, right about now some crazy person would break down our door and try to kill us."

Our door burst open.

_Damn it Crow!_

_

* * *

_

**Third Person POV**

**Warehouse **

"Yusei."

The soft clanks of gear and tools paused before he had even finished the name, ready evidence that he had been waiting for the call since the moment Sherry had vacated the room. Wiping the shadows of sweat from his brow, the duelist rose and let out a loaded sigh, his eyes piercing holes in the man's chest.

"How is this… how is this possible?"

Ignoring the question, the young man grabbed the spotted rag from his belt and wiped his hands. Old enough to recognize the cold shoulder, Mizoguchi frowned, the feeling affecting far more than just his face. "Then I suppose this has something to do with you being the Shadowhunter?"

Slivers of warning entered his eyes and voice at the accusation, accompanied by a low growl from the dragon in the corner. "I never said I was the Shadowhunter."

"You never denied it," he refuted, feeling idiotic and childish resorting to such simple back and forth. His fingers clenched and unclenched under the stress of what he had been shown while Yusei tossed the towel over his shoulder and waited, face closed.

"What is it you want to say to me, Mizoguchi?"

"She's been hurt too many times, Yusei!"

The smile at his concern was not pleasant or condescending, but the sight of it rubbed him the wrong way immediately, and he was almost certain that had been the quiet man's intent. "She's only hurting herself Mizoguchi, I haven't done anything to bring her harm."

He couldn't help it, not when his Lady's well being was on the line, "I'm sure you'll say the same about Aki."

Any idle gentle grace fled from his face at the name, leaving only a twisted frown in its place accompanied by a glare that would have the devil on his heels running. A slight hiccup in the elder's heart rate was the only misgiving he had about the blow, and even then only because he had seen that look on Sherry's face whenever Yliaster members tried to trump her with her parent's memory.

"I guessed that you would cross that line," he answered eventually, and with much more self control than the man gave him credit for. His arms crossed, an obvious sign that he would snap closed if he were pushed any further. "Sherry would not because of her own dealings with a loved one's death."

He shrugged suddenly, the movement too jerky to be natural. "But then again, you haven't lost your loved one, and you think I'm, what, hurting her? Corrupting her?"

There were no questions in his speech; just stated facts being tossed around like a haphazard collection of thoughts. "Yusei," Mizoguchi replied as the man bent over the machine again and started picking at the gears. "You're wrong."

He frowned, as the bitter grin appeared on the dead man's face before fading into a sincere grimace, "Ah, I know Mizoguchi. But you didn't lose Sherry to me, you lost her to Yliaster and her own obsession."

The guardian said nothing, but his eyes spoke curious volumes, so the duelist continued after a decent pause, "I'd imagine Sherry was very kind and happy as a child, brilliant and a little mischievous without a doubt. Even towards the beginning of your journey for the truth, she was still probably full of hope and cherished her family. She believed that she could make it right and then she would be at peace with them."

He nodded and motioned him to continue.

Yusei's face seemed to flicker towards annoyance for a moment, and Mizoguchi recalled that the man normally only spoke in a handful of sentences each day. Guilty pleasure bucked in his chest at causing him discomfort.

"I'd imagine something went wrong—Sherry was too rash, too naïve, and you got hurt saving her," Yusei continued with a sigh once he realized Mizoguchi intended to run him dry. By the surprised look on his face, Yusei stopped and looked back at him, "Don't be ridiculous, I believe in a person's privacy."

"She spied on you because—"

Yusei cut off with a wave of his hand. "I'm sure she thought she was justified, which is the root of her problems. Those false ideals probably started after you recovered, she took a vow to protect those she loved and take down Yliaster, making herself into a target to bear all the trauma Yliaster could throw at her."

He gave up pretending to work on the engine and crossed the room, climbing up the ladder to gaze out at the bright fall moon. Mizoguchi's eyes followed him, but he stayed where he was in case his Lady came back to an empty warehouse. "She's become less and less human from that point on, seeing herself as nothing more than a single purpose: revenge. And those around her just became pawns for her to manipulate and throw around."—he twisted around to stare at Mizoguchi levelly—"Which is why she asked me to be on her team in the first place. She knew I would say no, she depended on it actually. All she need was her foot in the door and to shake me up and she'd have me as a resource. Which is why she never pressed me to join or even made her last draw in our duel. Sherry is a master at manipulation and reading people, she understands the world of speed as well."

"You were aware of this?" Mizoguchi challenged. He had some trouble maintaining eye contact when the pale light was making a ghost out of his target.

"After some time," he replied, "it became obvious."

"So you know why she dislikes having you here then."

"I believe I've already said it," Yusei answered gently, satisfied that they had strayed away from Aki. "Sherry hates having me here because of our similarities, and the different ways we utilized them."

"You'll do whatever you want, despite what she demands," Mizoguchi insisted instead, the various hearsay and Yliaster's files on the man flouting through his mind.

_I am the leader of Team Satisfaction. _

_You're not a Signer, Crow, it's too dangerous._

_I'd gladly give my life to protect my bonds!_

_I'll catch whatever you dish out!_

As if thinking along the same lines, he nodded in agreement and granted, "I didn't underestimate you then. Very few people see my selfishness as what it is."

_Selfishness?_ he wondered with a raised eyebrow. _Is that how you think Yusei?_

Interpreting the question, Yusei said, "My bonds, they are my strength and weakness, as many people know. But they are also what make me selfish, not selfless. I shouldn't have them in the first place—not with the curse I bare."

_The curse of your father—_

_—the cancer of this place—_

The fact seemed to miff the younger duelist, so he carried on, "Sherry and I, we are not a good match. We'll both try to change each other too much, and the result will not be pleasant. We're both too stubborn and stuck in our ways."

Mizoguchi glanced down at his bowtie and blue suit with mild amusement, mouthing, _"Stuck in our ways, huh?"_

"There is one thing I don't understand though," Yusei continued quietly, winding down in his unusually long speech. The look in his eye suggested that he was not used to having to explain his thoughts on people to anyone, despite the fact that he obviously put a lot of effort into constructing them. "I meant what I said during the bomb threat—that you had the power to save her. You said you wouldn't do that."

Yusei glanced outside again, searching for an answer of his own under the stars, "Why?"

There were several answers to that question, the simplest also being the most selfish; that he didn't want to lose his Lady, who he loved as the daughter he never had, as he most certainly would if she gave up her foolhardy quest to destroy Yliaster and herself. Or that bringing it up would create a rift between them, that she would take it as badly as she took Yusei's presence here.

One hand rested on the smooth metal of his Lady's D-Wheel in thought, debating between answering the question or leaving the silence. With a grimace, he realized that at least one of the three of them had to be honest or they'd all fall apart, so he began, "I…"

But as Yusei turned to him in surprise that quickly melted to horror, he quickly forgot his words a whirled around, seeing nothing but a few glares from outside streetlights. He glanced back towards the frozen duelist in confusion, only to feel heat blossom at the base of his neck.

_"Mizoguchi!"_

A blur of blue informed him that Yusei was in motion. But his attention was on his neck, and the fiery sensation scorching up it…

Quickly as the silence fell, it exploded. Stardust Dragon roared and lunged forward, gold and red hissed around him, death screeched as metal gave out, and Yusei shouted as the two collided, engulfing him in a hard tackle. His ears rang as his head smacked the pavement, barely registering words of panic the young man was hollering in them…

_"Victim Sanctuary!"_

And then he knew nothing.

* * *

**Well these chapter should come more quickly now that I've gotten most of the groundwork out-that's right, the ACTION-FILLED-DRAMA-PACKED-HEART-WRENCHING-TEAR-JERKING-EPIC plot has arrived. **

**Hehehehe, well that was over-the-top. :D**

**Please let me know if there are any mistakes or anything that needs to be clarified and I'll change it. **

**Thanks for reading,  
**

**~AxJfan**


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